Legacy
by neonstarsofthecity
Summary: Being a SHIELD agent is not a normal job. It's dangerous and unpredictable and Lucia loves every second of it. If she thought things were chaotic before then she has no idea what's about to hit her Likely to change to M rating in later chapters. Slow burn Steve/OC. Legacy book 1.
1. Prologue

**WELCOME TO LEGACY! A FF featuring my OC and SHIELD agent. The plan is that this is going to be series that includes the movies with a little bit of Agents of SHIELD thrown in for good measure. All I can tell you so far is that she has a connection to more than one of our Marvel favourites. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Please leave a review. **

**PROLOGUE**

There was a slight breeze to the August air and Lucie gratefully inhaled, taking a moment to enjoy the California sunset. This was the only time that she enjoyed the beach, when the tourists and sun worshippers went home for the day and there would be a handful of couples or families who would make fire pits in the sand and have BBQs and enjoy a few beers. The sand felt familiar between her toes as she sipped her bottle of lager, some micro-brewery, limited edition brand that she brought back from her last visit to London. It wasn't her favourite beer but it would do, the only reason she had bought it in the first place was because it had puns for names.

"Whatcha got kid?" said a voice from behind her that could only belong to her father. He liked to believe that he could sneak up on her and a lot of the time she let him believe it, happy to have someone outside of her profession.

He dropped down beside her on the sand, ignoring the sand that was pouring into his pockets.

"Drop it like it's Hop," she smiled, handing the bottle over for him to taste

"Holy crap, that's awful. How many have you had for this to taste good?" he spat the beer into the sand in disgust.

"Just one. It's a six pack and they all have stupid names, this is the worst so far."

"What were the other options?"

"Erm, Villiage Idiot, Citra Ass Down, Tart Side of the Moon, Pathological Lager, Hopitus Prime and this dish water."

"Should have went with the Floyd reference." He stood up and held out his hand to help up his daughter. "Come on, I've got some beer in the fridge. Next time your Grams sends you home with booze make sure its scotch."

Lucie took it with a smile, tipping out the remained of the bottle onto the sand and then tossing it into the trash on the way back to the house. She shook the sand free from her blush pink sun dress and inhaled her dad's aftershave, a comforting scent of sandlewood and engine oil that always made her feel as though she was five years old again.

"Take it easy on the training, you're supposed to be on vacation." He pointed to the bruise on her collar bone and the matching one that disappeared partially up her skirt.

"It's no big deal Dad," she smiled, grateful that he wouldn't find out about the bandage that was taped to her side to cover the graze that a bullet had left.

He would never know that her vacation was in fact medical leave or that she was fresh from a mission in Namibia. Eventually he would know the truth but she was happy to keep him in ignorance for a while longer, he always had so much on his plate that she dared not add to it if she could help it.

With a tight grip on her phone, she stood up to join him, gliding across the sand and into the home she had grown up in.

**So we have a tiny introduction. **

**Please leave a review!**


	2. Parisian Holding

**WELCOME TO LEGACY! **

**Apologies for my French, I'm learning it at the moment but we haven't quite covered police station conversations.**

**I own nothing of Marvel, no characters, nothing from the films or comics or TV shows, I only own Lucia and the content I have created with her. **

**Anyways, on with it!**

**2025**

The gentle waves of the lake brushed against the soles of her feet in a monotonous rhythm that quickly had her relaxed. She had never been fond of the water, never took joy in swimming in the ocean that their home backed onto, never found a pool party irresistible. There was a photograph framed on the mantle piece of them all stood staring out at the lake at sunset, black silhouettes against the amber and pink sky and although you couldn't see their faces, it was obvious that they were happy; finally settled after so many years of fighting. Amid a broken world, one single perfectly happy moment.

There were no knives strapped to her body anymore and old wounds had finally been given the opportunity to heal as time slowly erased the evidence from her skin. Graduating to civilian life had been a difficult transition for everyone but Lucie tried to remind herself often of the fact that this was her reward. For the gods and magic and monsters, she had been given time to enjoy the silence. She wished that she could say that she was grateful but instead she was terrified.

**2009**

Every mission was categorised based on skill needed and risk probability. It wasn't a mission meant for her; she just begged Coulson for something to fill her time and he with no reason to deny her, he let her fly off to Paris with a bag filled with kit and a mission briefing. A simple enough mission. All that had to be done was to plant a little evidence. In and out in under 24 hours with minimal risk. A pallet cleanser she had called it.

Lucie had only ever been to Paris, years before SHIELD had come into her life. Her memory of it was foggy, remembering only a vague image of the Eiffel tower and being wrapped up warm. It wasn't a memory that she particularly cherished but it was one she quickly pushed out of her mind as she studied the building schematics and target profiles so that when she landed on French soil she was prepared.

The mission involved swapping out phone handset inside the Swiss Embassy for one that had been modified by SHIELD. It wasn't unusual for agents to be in the dark but for Lucie that was part of the fun. The plans she had been given were clear, in and out of the Embassy in under an hour. She didn't even need support from operations, everything was lining up perfectly.

How she ended up in a Parisian police station handcuffed to a table was a complicated matter. Early training had taught her how to escape handcuffs, police handcuffs being the easiest; still, the only way to break out of her confinement was to attract undesirable attention so things had to be seen as being played by the book.

Now, it's important that you know that she speaks perfect French, so was well aware of everything they are saying about "the American bitch" while they stood in the interrogation room with her doing absolutely nothing except insult her in French and make lewd comments. She gratefully played the part of the clueless American who spoke only incredibly simple French with a horrifically fake accent attached for good measure. Under different circumstances her mentors would be proud of her performance.

It took several hours for her cover story to be put into action. She scrutinised her split ends that she had neglected and the balayage was beginning to turn brassy; the constant stream of recent missions and little downtime afterwards taking their toll. She wondered what else she had let slide, she couldn't remember the last time she was in the gym or practised at the range. Several hours of boredom occupied for the most point by annoying the various police officers that came through to look at the stupid American but eventually a new voice joined the conversation.

"Bonjour, mon client sera libéré immédiatement. Tous les documents pertinents sont avec votre sergent."

She suppressed a smile at the sight of him, keeping her demure expression until she was led, still in handcuffs, to the waiting car outside.

"Thanks, Clint."

"You're lucky I was close; Natasha would leave you."

He was right, Natasha would have left her to rot in a jail cell for a while for her own stupid mistakes in the hopes that it might teach the young agent a lesson. Clint preferred a softer approach.

"I know, I know."

"Why are you even here? This was a level three mission at most." His disapproval was obvious.

Lucie already had an excuse in the bank, expecting questions from whoever came to pick her up. What she didn't bank on was it being Clint "the human lie detector" Barton.

"Luce," Clint prompted only to be met with silence again. "Look, if you're not very careful then you're going to end up in the infirmary or the morgue. What's going on with you?" he kept his eyes on the road.

She sunk into her chair, hoping that if she kept quiet that he wouldn't ask any more questions.

"I saw the footage. You didn't even try to get out clean."

"I just got distracted. It won't happen again," she replied, hoping that the promise would satisfy him enough to stop asking questions.

"You know that if you were on a mission with me or Natasha then you could have got us killed with this kind of recklessness."

"It won't happen again," she repeated.

"Damn right it won't. Spill."

"Clare was there, hanging off the arm of some diplomat."

Clint sighed and gave her a sympathetic glance. "Did she see you?"

"I bolted before she had the chance."

"Tell you what, we'll get back home and you can take it out on the range and you can talk as much as you want."

"So are you going to let me out of these?" she asked, holding out her hands with a hopeful smile.

"Nope." There was an audible pop and the mischievous smile that was his trademark.

**So there's your introduction to Lucia and it's just the tip of the iceberg, there are a few twists that hopefully you wont see coming.**

**Please review and let me know what you think!**


	3. Crystal

**Welcome to Chapter 2 of Legacy!**

**So we've had a very brief intro to Lucie, more of that to come. So far we're pre IronMan and we'll probably get to that around chapters 4 or 5. There are a lot of familiar faces going to pop up, some briefly and some more permanent. **

**I don't own Marvel, if I did then there would have been a Black Widow movie years ago.**

**Chapter 2- Crystal.**

November in New York is the best New York there is, the grey chill of winter had well and truly set in. Christmas decorations were starting to appear in shop windows, lights were being strung and tinsel had started to make appearances on the dashboards of the yellow cabs. With December a couple of weeks away, many of the Christmas shopping tourists, saving their money for Thanksgiving and the Black Friday sales that followed.

Lucie wrapped herself warm, buried in a thick burgundy parka with a clashing knitted scarf, gloves and the warmest hat she owned. She looked like a tourist, unaccustomed to the cold who had made do with the warmest clothes she could find rather than coordinating. Give her a scorching hot beach any day over a frosty morning in New York City.

Christmas decorations began to appear in shop windows and lights were strung outside. Lucie had even gone so far as to buy a small Christmas tree for her apartment, she would be spending Christmas day with her dad but she liked the visual reminder of the time of year. It was the first time since joining SHIELD that she would have the entire holidays off work. There were no missions that her name was attached to and no duties that demanded her attention, a welcome change from the previous year when she had been stationed in Kabul and had to wish her family a Merry Christmas via Skype when she felt anything but festive. Nothing quite dampens the holiday atmosphere quite like sand and camo.

With her time off, she took the time to treat herself; trading in the gym for the salon. Thankfully, the salon was well heated against the New York chill and she happily tucked herself away in front of one of the heaters with a trashy magazine and a head full of foil. The magazine was incidental, she just liked to people watch. The salon was filled with women preparing for the holidays, picking out shades of red and gold and green for impractical acrylics and warm tones to banish the grey from their hair.

Lucie was half smiling at the complaint one of these women was making to a nail technician about how wanted _Festive Green _rather than _Emerald Blaze_. A quick google search showed them to be exactly the same colour. She was already invested when her phone rang in the back pocket of her jeans, interrupting her focus.

"We need you to come in," the familiar voice said.

"Can you give me a couple of hours?" she asked hopefully. It wouldn't be the first time that she had gone into the office with her hair coated in dye but she tried to avoid it if at all possible. Plus she wanted to see how the situation in the salon resolved itself or if the self-proclaimed full time spouse would eventually get bored.

"You have one."

"Thank you, Sir."

Lucie pressed end and then immediately went to her text messages, seeing the usual list of contacts, her dad, Clint, Natasha, Dove from the armoury, ect. She tapped on Clint's name and quickly typed out a message before sending an identical one to Natasha.

_You in? _

They replied within seconds, both confirming that they'd see her at the office soon.

She called over the stylist that had been dealing with her and quickly explained that she was needed at the office and that if she was good to go in half an hour there would be a massive tip in it. What the heck, it was Christmas after all.

Unwilling to brave the cold again, Lucie hailed the first cab she saw after leaving the salon, giving him the address of a law firm just off Times Square, the public face of SHIELD HQ. Every few minutes, Lucie would catch the scent of her freshly coloured hair and melt a little, grateful for the fact that at least her hair was a suitable state for work, even if her attire wasn't. She wore old skinny jeans that she had found at the back of a drawer that morning and a battered grey sweater top that she was certain belonged to Clint; she made a mental note to ask him when she got to their office.

Agents stared at her as she walked through operations and the newer agents chatted quietly amongst themselves until she caught them and they averted their eyes in embarrassment, some even in fear. "Is that her?" they asked, or "I heard she's working undercover." She didn't know many of the faces, nor the voices that belonged to them. It wasn't very often she spent time on the operational floor but when she did she never spoke to other agents, too busy running a mission to bother with the lower level gossip.

HQ was built to be confusing. Every corridor and door looked the same and nothing was labelled, still Lucie could find her way around blindfolded, or as she often did, with her head buried in a file. She scanner her ID card at every door and in the elevator until she reached the twenty-third floor where there was far less activity. Her office was on that floor and she stopped by briefly in search of something more suitable to wear.

The office in question had more decoration than any of the others on the floor, it was also one of the smallest yet held the most agents. Three desks were squeezed in as well as a futon couch and an armoury disguised as a filing cabinet. A variety of weapons were attached to the wall and a poster hung on one wall that said _Safety first. Just kidding, coffee first. Safety is like 4__th__ or 5__th__. _Two of the desks were cluttered and messy, a security risk even, the other was neat and perfectly organised. It was at this desk that a red headed woman sat with one foot perched on the edge.

"How was Sydney?" Lucie asked, dumping her parka on her chair.

"Hot. How was Paris?" Natasha retorted, already knowing the answer and looking less than impressed.

"Eventful."

Natasha sniggered. "Eventful? You pull that kind of stunt again and I'll make sure you're removed from the team. Am I clear?"

"Crystal."

That was it, the subject over. It wouldn't be discussed again.

"You know anything about this briefing?" Natasha asked.

"Not a clue. Sounded urgent on the phone."

Lucie quickly stripped off her jeans, rummaging in the draw of her desk for something else, preferably black. Stripping off in front of Natasha had never been a problem. They had seen each other in far more compromising positions and it wasn't as if there were anything left to the imagination after working together for so long.

"Is that my shirt?" Natasha enquired.

"I think it's Clint's? I haven't been back to the apartment yet."

"I know the feeling." Natasha sounded annoyed, as if going to her apartment was just another chore on her never ending list of things to do.

"I don't know why you still keep it, you're never there."

Lucie had a point, the assassin was so rarely at home that there was still a small Christmas tree half decorated in the corner of her lounge from the previous year. There was a closet of untouched clothes and takeout abandoned in the fridge that would probably need a hazmat team to dispose of. Whenever she was home, she would usually end up at Lucie's anyways, catching up on the time they had spent apart, prepping for upcoming missions or simply hanging out.

"We'd kill each other."

"If we survived Singapore then we can survive anything."

Natasha answered the phone when it rang, shrill and demanding. "Romanoff," she said. "On our way."

Even on the phone she was formidable. When Lucie first became an agent, it terrified her, unable to see past Black Widow and to Natasha. Natasha the loyal, the loving, the honest, the unashamed dork and accidental shoplifter.

Natasha stuck her tongue out as she hung up the phone, standing up with a huff.

"They're ready for us then?"

"Aren't they always? Let's go."

**So there we have chapter 2. So we've met both Clint and Natasha. They'll be main players for a while and you'll see what unfolds with them and Lucie. While this chapter is before Iron Man, it later chapters will be set at the same time as the film but there will be very little crossover. I'm saving Tony Stark in all his glory for a little while.**

**Please leave a review and let me know what you think! Follow, favourite, subscribe **

**Next Chapter should be up by the end of next week at the latest. **


	4. Rosetta

**Welcome to Chapter Three of Legacy!**

**Thanks for sticking with me this far. What do you think of Lucie? Anyone you'd like to see pop in from time to time? Let me know. **

**This is going to be a long one, we've got a bit of background, a bit of action and a bit of a cliffhanger at the end.**

**I don't own Marvel, I wish. **

Chapter 3-

With hairpins pinched between her lips, she made sure that both of her Dutch braids were tucked tightly against her head, sliding each pin home one by one. It was a style she reserved only for missions, preferring to either wear her brunette hair down or up in high pony if she needed it out of her face on the rare occasion that she worked with her father. It was normal for her to have a thin, blunt blade or two buried in her hair but her hair was too soft from her morning in the salon. She kicked herself, berating herself for not being more patient, waited a couple of days until she was on official leave.

There had been no time to prep their gear before their mission, then again, they were known for being efficient. Their weapons were in prime condition, cleaned and ammunition restocked, as much a part of the team as another agent, weapon maintenance could be the difference between coming home exhausted or coming home with a body bag.

Getting ready on the move was the norm these days and there was a skill to being able to pull on a skin tight Kevlar suit whilst battling turbulence and Lucie had earned the bruises to prove it unlike Natasha who was as the definition of grace. Despite the hours of training and watching the way that the spy moved, Lucie couldn't quite manage to replicate no matter how hard she tried.

Clint had parked himself between Lucie and Natasha, falling asleep before they had even left the tarmac of the base. Lucie and Natasha didn't look twice, they never had to worry about whether or not Clint was prepared for a mission, he always knew more than they did and the pair suspected that he was the one who decided whether or not Rosetta took a mission rather than their handler. He would wake an hour before landing, check in and make final checks.

Natasha was different, she studied everything the packet said, looking for clues that were under the surface, the details that someone else might have missed. Anything that could give her an edge. In another life she would have made a good girl scout. Instead she was a far more deadly than the stereotype of the all American girl that she so often used as her alias. She used her helmet to lean the file against, making no notes and leaving no trace on the paper of the things she had managed to uncover. The reason why a guard favoured their right side despite being left handed, which advisor was having an affair with another married man and which officer was using a religion he didn't believe in as a shield against those who would threaten him. All of this she managed to get from a handful of photographs.

Identical hard copies of the same file had been issued to the members of Rosetta Team printed on every page and detailed everything that SHIELD already knew about Turkmenistan and its operations. Somehow, the country had managed to cram thirty-five years worth of technological advances into just under 12 months. Suspicions had been raised and that kind of advancement, that quickly, was never a good thing. Had these advances been in infrastructure then no one would have cared. Instead, they threw their new-found technology and the money that came with it, into their weapons programme. Missiles had already been launched into neighbouring Iraq but given it was already a warzone, nobody paid attention. What's one more explosion in a warzone filled with bullets and fire? If one of those missiles was fired at North Korea or the United States or Europe then there would be a blood bath, the world would be plunged into World War III before you could say "They shall not grow old." Their mission was to find out how they had advanced so fast and who was funding them.

By the time they touched down in Ashgabat, they were ready to go with four separate rendezvous points, just in case. Code words had been selected and cover stories established. It was a double-cross; they had been assigned to play the part of security, something not unusual for the three of them, Natasha and Lucie would be personal bodyguards and Clint positioned slightly further away, out of sight and looking for weak spots. From his position he could keep an eye on the younger agent, despite the conversations that he and Natasha had had about the young woman, he wasn't convinced that she was 100% ready to resume her duties.

They had been allotted three days to complete their investigation, get in and out with minimal noise. By noon on the second day they had completed their assignment and new orders quickly came through and suddenly their quiet mission wasn't so quiet any more. As usual, when it came to Rosetta team, the mission details were few and far between, given only an end goal while the trio was expected to work out everything in between. All they needed was a little bit of time, so, naturally, they secured a hotel room, put on a pot of stale coffee and brainstormed a way to blow up a fake nuclear power station without the general public finding out. Fury would not be pleased if they had to play out a Chernobyl narrative, the expense alone would be eye-watering.

"If we go in this way," Lucie suggested, pointing to the loading bay on the south side of the building. "We're further away when we breach the perimeter but Clint has a better sightline and we have a quicker exit strategy."

Natasha considered it for a moment before pointing to the map with the tip of her pen. "We need a way to avoid these cameras."

"I'll handle those, Q gave me some of these prototypes before we left," Clint said, digging through his bag and pulling out a small fabric box that contained tiny steel disks.

"Do you mean Ben down in R&D?" Lucie asked.

"You really need to stop watching James Bond movies," Natasha said, shaking her head with a fond smile.

Spy movies to spies were like medical shows to doctors, hilariously inaccurate but ever so slightly addictive.

"Dare you to call Fury "M" when we get home," Lucie challenged. She smirked, knowing that he would never be able to turn down a dare, no matter how stupid.

"Done!"

"Back to business, please. We go with Lucie's plan, now all we need is a rendezvous and a getaway vehicle. Once we're away from the facility then SHIELD will arrange transport from the rendezvous."

"I say, we commandeer, leave it a mile away from the facility," Clint suggested. "Saves us going back into the city. Rest of our gear is being shipped out as soon as we're ready to go."

While Lucie and Natasha poured over the map, Clint was cleaning his handguns. Each part was laid on the table, waiting patiently to be polished and wiped down with oil. It was just one of many surfaces in their makeshift HQ that was covered with weaponry. They'd taken up residence in a hotel room in the city, keeping the Do Not Disturb notice up with the door both locked and chained, just in case any of the staff decided to break the habits of their stay so far and be hospitable.

"Well it's a 4-hour drive to Mashhad, 3 if you're driving," Natasha said, using a knife to point in Clint's general direction.

"That's our extraction point? 3 hours away?!" Lucie demanded in outrage.

"Consequence of going over budget again," Natasha explained with a shrug.

"Again?" Lucie asked.

"Nat "needed_"_ to have a weapons cache she saw at an expo," Clint said.

"Who spends twenty-five grand on a bow and quiver?!" Natasha countered, pointing to the bow that he had been basically cradling since they met up at SHIELD HQ.

"Who needs 300 throwing knives?" he deflected.

"I sent some back," Lucie reasoned.

"Twelve."

"Still better than none. Do you have any idea how many I lose?" Lucie complained. The young agent could carry anything from 50 to 200 knives about her person while on missions and up to 30 on a regular day. This seems like a lot but if you think of them as bullets rather than throwing knives it doesn't sound nearly so excessive.

Missions were easier in the dark, especially if it was a new moon. Their feet made no sound as they hit the concrete and their black uniforms allowed them to skulk in the shadows and had the SHIELD eagle emblazoned in matte on their shoulders. The only thing that gave them away was their misty breath.

There was nothing in their plan that they hadn't done before so, even though they were cautious, they were relatively relaxed. Lucie hacked the electronic door that granted them entry while Natasha and Clint kept watch, both with weapons primed and ready, the pair had forgone their usual bow and widow bites for their standard-issue handguns. Clint entered first, peering around corners and sticking to the shadows while Natasha and Lucie waited patiently outside for their cue to come over their comms.

"Copy," the pair said, each taking their positions and covering each other as they headed towards their target.

Considering that they planned to blow up the technological innovation department that supplied the entire country, Natasha carried surprisingly little explosives, barely enough to fill one of the small bags on her utility belt. Still, she was the expert so they naturally let her take the lead.

"Widow, Lucifer three o'clock. Two-man patrol." The voice over the radio was clear and both Natasha and Lucie were immediately on alert.

A two-man patrol meant one each, something easily done, the pair could do it in their sleep. It was almost funny, given the lack of complications and the sheer lack of professionalism, Ashgabat had been the most straight forward mission Rosetta Team had had in months, Fury could have sent a far less experienced team of agents to deal with the situation. Hell, it could have even been a graduation mission it was so straight forward. Still, Rosetta was pleased to have a mission together, something that didn't happen too often given their constantly clashing schedules.

Clint spent a fair amount of his time at the academy, rooting through the recruits for potential, out of 100 candidates, maybe 4 ended up in fieldwork and everyone had been chosen by Clint. Natasha on the other hand was rarely found in recruit training facilities. Preferring to work in the field as much as possible whether it be an active mission or adding another identity to her seemingly endless supply of cover stories. Lucie, on the other hand, was sent pretty much everywhere, the young woman desperate to build on her hours in the field; she was a good agent but new by SHIELD standards and had been a field agent for barely 18 months and the promotion to an elite team in such a short time was unheard of. Still, after Paris, she needed to have a good result, a surgical strike to put her back in the good books of her supervising officer. Still, she had a lot to prove, not only to SHIELD.

They stopped the guards without breaking step, Black Widow and Lucifer raised their sidearms and like a choreographed dance and slammed them against the men's temples. They slumped to the floor with heavy thuds and Black Widow and Lucifer just carried on walking as if nothing had happened.

"Clear," Natasha said into her cuff. The jokes were over. It was time to work.

They followed the corridors, silently stepping closer and closer to the main lab that was their target. None of the cameras were functioning thanks to Clint but they still avoided them wherever possible, more a habit than a necessity but they were eager to have the attention far away from them.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Lucie confessed.

"Just keep your eyes open."

The lab in question was made entirely from glass and steel, a cage within a much larger room that led in every direction. From a security point of view, it was incompetent, leaving an important and valuable facility with too many weak points. It was an art installation at best, show such a set up to any of the main players and they would laugh. The glass was 1 inch bulletproof rather than 8-inch Hammerglass that could not only take a bullet but most other tools, including a truck.

Lucie crouched down and pulled a small black box about the size of a deck of cards from her pocket. She attached it next to the keypad and waited for the combination to come up to appear on the battered screen in digital green numbers.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered to herself, shaking her head and pushing the buttons that matched the ones on the control panel.

"What is it?" Natasha asked.

"It's the same bloody code. Idiots. It's like these people have never heard of security." Lucie slid the device back into her belt and she pushed aside her frustration at their sheer idiocy.

"Let's go."

"You've got less than 3 minutes to set up and get out," Clint said over the comms.

"Copy. We'll be out in 2. Prepare for complete surveillance blackout," Natasha replied.

Once inside, they set the small explosives in specific points around the lab, making sure that everything that needed to be destroyed would be blown to oblivion. Papers were neatly stacked next to a computer that was at least ten years old, hardly state of the art, and there were steel tables and benches scattered around the room, almost as if it were some morbid classroom. Microscope lined the bench furthest from them and a Bunsen burner was placed carefully beside it with a test tube rack with too many different colours to be any kind of legitimate experiment.

For once, their black uniforms didn't hide them, they were plain as day, the black obvious against the white tile floor and bright lights that hung from the ceiling. Everything in this room was meant to be seen. They were meant to be seen. And they were. Neither of the women noticed when a little red light beside one of the ancient looking cameras began to blink beneath the layer of dust.

Then, just as they were headed for the door, ready to make their quiet escape, the door slammed. The bolt fell into place with a heavy click and finally, the lights went out.

**DUN DUN DUNNNN! **

**Well, Lucie and Natasha are right up the creek. **

**Please leave a review, they make****the world go round.**


	5. First Kill

**Welcome to Chapter Four of Legacy!**

**Thanks for sticking with me this far. It's been a hell of a week so I'm glad to get this out!**

**Everything in bold is in French but since I didn't want to google translate, the bold will be in English.**

**So we left Lucie and Natasha in bit of trouble and locked in a glass box. **

**I don't own Marvel, I wish. **

Chapter 4- First Kill

With the absence of her sight, every other sense took over. Within half a heart beat, they had their sidearms raised. With nothing to aim at, Lucie tried to focus dead ahead of her, knowing that Natasha was safely out of her firing line since she was off somewhere to her right. Close enough for her to hear a faint breath but not close enough to touch. They waited for a few moments in the silence for their eyes to adjust so that they could at least make out the outlines of everything around them, maybe even be able to do a quick headcount to see what they were up against.

Plans had been devised and put in place for when things went to hell, as they seemed to do more often than not, they called it The Handbasket Protocol. Usually this was decided with a look or a hand gesture but in the dark, Lucie waited for Natasha's orders.

Rather than the Russian Lucie had come to expect in these kinds of situations was expecting, the first word came in English. "Wait."

"Did you see anyone?" the younger agent asked.

"No. Comms are out." Natasha whispered, knowing that only Lucie could hear, the screen around them would dampen any noise and the security cameras were too old to pick up any kind of audio.

In the minute that they had been locked inside, the spy had already decided that technology hadn't been their downfall. Someone knew they were coming and was waiting for them.

"Plan?"

"Wait."

Patience didn't come easy to Lucie no matter how hard Clint and Natasha had tried to drill it into her along with the rest of her training. Being still was difficult as her mind offered her a hundred and one ways to navigate a situation. It was the thinking on her feet that made her a near perfect fit for Rosetta, if only she could just sit still and wait for events to unfold in their own time.

The tips of her fingers began to sting as they turned colder along the barrel of her handgun, more familiar to her almost anything else in her life. Adrenaline always started burning cold in her fingertips and that was when she didn't even allow her chest to rise with each breath as each sense grew and spread throughout her body, daring her to be ready for anything. Outlines of the lab around them were becoming clearer and if she looked to the left she could see the distinct outline of Natasha, barely a shade of black between her and the room they had been lured into.

With the communications down, they knew the protocols that Clint would follow right down to the second. It would take him just under three minutes given the size and layout of the building. SHIELD would send no rescue mission for them when things went south, they would claim no responsibility for the agents they had sent into the field. The United States didn't have an official presence in Turkmenistan and none of their trade routes passed anywhere near the country. From there it was easy to assume that the guns trained on them weren't stolen since Turkmenistan didn't have the resources for that kind of thing. Clint was their only hope of getting home without things spiralling further out of control.

From out of the darkness there was a slow, sarcastic clap followed by several pairs of dull, heavy boots hitting the floor and moving into position, no doubt to surround them.

"Welcome, American friends!" a male voice boomed, far happier than he should have been to discover intruders.

The lights came back on and the agents winced for a split second at the brightness while trying to remain perfectly still as their eyes adjusted to the flood of light that burned their retinas. They stood facing in opposite directions, barely a foot apart and still with weapons raised, covering half the room each.

Each soldier looked remarkably similar in age, none of them over the age of twenty given the peach fuzz and acne but that wasn't the thing that grabbed the attention of the two agents. They had all been armed with semi automatic rifles usually reserved for the US Navy and not a single one had been fired outside of a training exercise. There was no fear in their eyes and from their blank faces it was obvious that they had never seen a day of conflict in their careers; they would follow orders until it was too late to realise they were walking in front of a firing squad.

"You know what they say, never send a woman to do a man's job." He smiled, an emperor surveying his kingdom, basking in his victory that he had never earned.

They recognised him immediately from their briefing pack, his was one of the many profiles they had studied on the way to Turkmenistan but no one had pegged him as a main player. His name was General Nikifor Kozlov, currently in charge of homeland security, a post he was relatively new to. His rank was purely ceremonial, never having been in the military and instead, exploiting the influence of his father. He was in his late thirties and had been married for fifteen years to a wife that he violently oppressed and abused. It was this woman who gave him two sons who were both growing up to be just like their father and although it sickened their mother, she did nothing. General Kozlov was the kind of man that would have been at the top of a dead pool that Natasha and Lucie would gladly participate in, they'd even do it free of charge.

"Which one of you is going to tell me who you work for and what it is you want?"

He looked so sure that the pair were going to tell him exactly what he wanted to know. There was no doubt in his mind that he was the most irresistible man they had ever laid eyes on. In reality, he was a balding man pushing forty who was a bakers dozen kilograms overweight to be considered even remotely healthy, he had an obsession with greasy food that oozed from his pores and made him smell of old cooking oil. The vast majority of women would steer clear. Especially given he was a massive misogynist. He was irresistible to nothing but diabetes and gold diggers.

There were plans in place for this kind of thing, men who could be distracted easily by massaging their egos. The characters they assumed to do just that were the easiest to summon, they relied on dense stereotypes and heavy handed lies.

"We aren't telling you anything," Lucie spat and it was the absolute truth. It was a clever move, positioning herself as a young agent who hadn't quite learned how to keep her mouth shut.

"Be quiet," Natasha ordered. She, as usual, would be playing the far more responsible and seasoned agent.

"Ah, so you _are_ Americans. So, FBI, CIA, DHS? Who sent you?" Kozlov said, almost attempting to charm an answer from them. As if his crooked smile and his undeserved power could make them weak at the knees and completely submissive to his every whim. It had the opposite effect, it repulsed them.

"Okay, now you're just saying letters," Lucie replied, only partially in character.

Natasha rolled her eyes and put her gun away, sliding it easily into the holster attached to her thigh. Looking round to make sure that Lucie had done the same and was also facing the same way, looking at their captor. It was easy to paint Lucie as an idiot in situations like this, she looked young enough to be considered inexperienced and they used it to their advantage whenever they had to. It wasn't a trick that they could implement for long. Still, their stall tactic was working.

Not too far away, Clint had broken into the control room, neutralising the two soldiers who had been assigned to watch for any further breaches. Kozlov's men weren't expecting a third man, after all, as far as the General was concerned, the Americans had only sent women. Clint was well aware of what was going on, watching the entire scene on the monitors and paying careful attention to the way that Lucie was tapping her fingers against the Kevlar coating of her combat pants. While the General stared at Natasha, Lucie was passing her coded messages to the agent she knew would be watching.

_Charges set. _

It was the same two words over and over for a couple of minutes, a monotonous rhythm of dots and dashes just to be certain that he had the message. Morse code was old school spy work but it came up more often than you might think, sometimes the old tricks were the best. The beat was catchy, it would have made a pop song on the radio back home.

They could still complete the mission; they just couldn't get out clean. There would be trouble when they debriefed but they were working with what they had and would have to deal with the extra paperwork that came with the collateral damage. Unless everything from here on out went perfectly, then Lucie would probably find herself on desk duty.

"You Americans cannot stop meddling in the East. You control us no more. Soon you will bow to us!" Kozlov was preaching, completely ignoring the disinterested looks that Natasha and Lucie were giving him and too caught up in his own self-interest. "America will be the first to fall!" It was a good stall tactic, allowing him to fill the silence himself rather than them incriminating themselves further. Rule one of being interrogated, keep your mouth shut.

Neither of the women flinched when a familiar voice came through their comms.

"Nat, if you can hear me, roll your eyes. Luce, blink twice." They followed Clint's instructions and waited for their exit strategy. "Good. The room will fill with smoke and Luce will find the code to unlock the door, I'll open it from the outside. We're going to have to shoot out way out so be prepared. Signal if you understand." The women repeated their signals again.

"Standby."

Those few moments stretched on for what felt like days. The pair listened to Kozlov gloat about how stupid the Americans were and how women deserved nothing more to be barefoot and pregnant with a gaggle of kids that would serve the cause. Patiently, they waited for him to do something other than talking, doubting the time would ever come.

Eventually, he stopped, either no longer satisfied with the reaction from his audience or simply because he ran out of things to say. Either way, he demanded that both women lay down their weapons on the floor and to kick them out of reach.

_Better late than never._ Lucie thought to herself.

Waiting for their cue, they slowly sunk to the floor and placed their side arms on the floor, ignoring the rest of the arsenal they each carried.

"On your knees."

"Showtime." His voice was muffled slightly, no doubt from being in a space that was almost too small for him.

Lucie suppressed a smile.

Natasha didn't react.

Together, the women sank to their knees and laced their hands behind their heads, a pose that didn't come naturally to either of them.

None of the soldiers noticed the smoke filling the room until it was already pooling around their feet, by which point it was too late for them to do anything.

Lucie and Natasha slammed themselves on the floor of their cell, making themselves as small a target as possible, each pulling up their bandana so it covered their mouth and nose to protect from the smoke.

Lucie pulled herself across the floor to the door and slammed the code breaker next to the lock, relieved when the magnet attached itself. Smoke filled the room, hiding everything that happened on the other side of the glass except for the flashes of light whenever someone fired their weapons. Even without the cell around them shattering, they stayed low, weapons returned to their hands and ready for an escape. Dull thuds and grunts filled the air as Clint took out as many of the soldiers as he could. Bullets ricocheted off the outside of the cell, rebounding harmlessly without so much as a scratch.

"Maybe it's not as bad as we thought," Lucie offered.

"Get them!" Kozlov roared.

Natasha rolled her eyes and crawled beside the younger agent, snapping her weapon up so that it was aimed at the door when she heard rubber against the concrete steps outside the cell. Gunfire was still going on and bullets hit the concrete walls most of the time but occasionally there would be a grunt or a yell when a soldier was hit, one was even crying for his mother.

"Code?" Clint demanded quietly, his fingers primed on the keypad and waiting for instructions.

"3900842."

The door swung open and Lucie and Natasha filed out, the trio keeping low to avoid the gunfire as they headed towards the exit with Clint at the lead. The corridor ahead had very little smoke and visibility wasn't an issue, their only job was to get out.

"This way," Clint said, stepping carefully with his bow raised in case of any soldiers who may have run for cover when the smoke appeared.

Lucie kept an eye to make sure they weren't being followed while Natasha covered Clint since he was in the weakest position.

"Shoot to kill," Natasha ordered. "Otherwise we won't make it out."

"Copy," both Lucie and Clint answered.

They didn't see a single soul until they were at the exit, their escape route. All they had to do was open the door and run through the woods. Once they hit the treeline it would be impossible for them to be caught, there was too much cover to be caught by such an inexperienced group. They may have got the drop on SHIELD in the base but they wouldn't be so lucky again.

"Amerikaly garakçylar!" Kozlov shouted as he emptied a clip haphazardly down the corridor, not a single shot hitting its target.

The only shot that did, belonged to the young agent who fired back, silencing the General indefinitely once he hit the concrete. Even at a distance, Lucie could tell by the way he didn't try to break his own fall that she had done something she couldn't take back and the blood pooling on the floor only confirmed it. At that moment, Lucie didn't register what happened. Yes, she had followed orders and now Kozlov was dead, a single gunshot to the head ending it all. She protected her team, made sure that they all went home at the end of the mission, just like always. The only difference this time was an unforgettable and life-changing price.

Her first kill.

Transport back to base was abnormally quiet. Clint sat with his arms folded and his eyes closed even though he wasn't asleep. It was the best outcome that they could have hoped for under the circumstances and they very nearly came back without one of their team members. They had had close calls before, often toeing the line between life and death, it came as part of the job but Lucie sat so silently, so focused on her own hands clutched in her lap that the elder agents left her to process. Every field agent ended somebody's life at some point in their career. Sometimes it was in self-defence and sometimes it was a hit. Lucie fell squarely in the first camp but it didn't make her feel any better, nor did the fact that Koslov was a bad guy. Natasha had been right when she said it would change her.

The office was a fragile silence when Lucie was finally released from debrief. Natasha sat at her desk typing away on her computer, already showered and changed after her own debrief.

"I was going up to see Janis if you wanted to come with?" Natasha said, more of a gentle suggestion than anything else.

"I'm fine, I don't need to see a shrink," Lucie replied, dumping her grab bag on the couch and throwing all of her dirty clothes and gear onto the floor.

"You don't have to see a shrink if you don't want, just talk to someone. I'm here when you need me. I'm staying up at the Falls tonight if you want to hang out? It's peaceful," Natasha offered.

"Thanks, but I'm going to go see my Dad for a few days. Lay on a beach for a while and listen to the ocean."

"Sounds perfect. I'm just a call away." Natasha offered her a sympathetic smile and then left her to her thoughts. She remembered her first kill and how it had changed her. It had been another girl in the Red Room, a kill or be killed test. That girl had been weaker than the rest, barely getting through the tests and trials that were set, her fight against Natasha had been her final chance to prove herself. Her name was Sonja and although they hadn't spoken much, Natasha still remembered her face.

**Kozlov was basically shouting "American bitches" after Rosetta while they were escaping. I speak zero Turkmen so it was a straight off google translate job.**

**I'm aiming for around 1.5k per chapter, some might be longer but I'm setting that to the minimum.**

**A lot of what I already have written is from Winter Soldier onwards and a lot of what is written doesn't take part within the movies so once all of this is fully established chapters will be longer.**

**For every review you leave, a tiny sunflower is planted. **


	6. Distractions

**Chapter Five already!**

**I don't own Marvel or the MCU, shockingly.**

Chapter Five- Distractions.

Sea air often had a calming effect during Lucie's teenage years, it seemed to help subdue the constant frustration of not being able to spread her wings. During those years she couldn't wait to get away and carve out a life for herself.

Her family home was almost silent save for the faint electrical hum and although it would have been bliss to return to her New York apartment but at her father's it was more disappointing, she was expecting some kind of chaos and it would have been a good distraction. The house seemed colder without him and its tidiness should have been a give away that he wasn't home. Still, she tried not to let it bother her and instead went up to her old room to change out of her travelling clothes and hopefully the smell of cheap airline seats and recycled air. The door to her room still had the little wooden plaque that identified it as _Lucia's Room_ with a hot pink post it attached with thumb tack that read _Keep Out!_ The door was open, someone had been inside since her last visit

She let her duffle bag drop to the floor with a dull thud and took a seat on the freshly made bed. The photos on her night stand brought a smile to her face and she took her favourite in her hands and pressed her fingers to the glass. The photograph had been taken in front of the castle at Disney World and she was maybe five or six years old with dark hair and missing a front tooth and she smiled a toothy grin as she was held one arm by her father. He had his free hand in the air in triumph while wearing a pair of glittery mouse ears that he had clearly stolen from his daughter. The duo looked happy, like a family. She didn't even notice the gap that wasn't there in other people's family photos. Tearing herself away from the nostalgia, she swapped her sweat pants for some shorts and headed down for the garage.

The garage was just as she expected to find it. She had seen warzones better organised.

"Honey, I'm home," she sang and the lights came to life, exposing the full extent of her father's clutter.

Disappointment stung when she found the room empty, she hoped she would find him there, tinkering away under the engine of a car that would likely never run. Surfaces were covered with tools and parts of engines and junk food wrappers. There were a couple of cups with half finished smoothies in them, one green and the other, a vibrant orange, neither of which looked particularly appetising but somehow ridiculously healthy.

A pair of dark red overalls hung on one of the pegs by the door and she quickly stepped into, the well worn material both comforting and practical while covered in patches of oil and paint. It felt strangely familiar to putting on her tactical gear and for a moment her memory shot to gunfire, she reached out and braced herself against the wall, willing herself to think of something else, anything to tear herself from the memory.

With a wince, she sank to the ground looking for anything that could ground her as heart began to race as if back in the gun fight. Flashes from the barrel of her Baretta, the blood pooling on the floor like syrup, the firm grip pulling her away from the industrial looking corridor and to the rendezvous.

"Lucie, Lucie, I'm Lucie."

She chanted her name over and over, trying to tear herself apart from the identity she had created for SHIELD. Lucie hadn't killed anyone, that had been Lucifer. The two women couldn't and wouldn't clash. It was one of the first lessons she had been taught as part of SHIELD although she hadn't quite understood its importance until recently. Somehow she felt heavier, as if every lie she told was rock in her pocket as she walked out to sea.

The unforgiving fabric of her overalls felt familiar against her skin and she was grateful that she had chosen red rather than black. As she walked across the garage to the blue Ford that was in bits on the floor she tried to drown out the voices in her head by giving herself something to concentrate on. A project was just what she needed.

Pulling a hair tie from her wrist, she tugged her dark hair into a high pony tail so that it was out of her way. Each engine part was carefully laid out, waiting to be put back into place under the hood and the cool metal felt good under her skin. She was six years old when she put her first engine together, watched the entire time by her father who stood by proudly, for her it was a puzzle, for him it was a labour of love.

She sank to the floor with crossed legs and patiently began cleaning each piece of metal, getting lost in the repetitive movement of cleaning away any debris she found. The next task wasn't even a stray thought, she concentrated only on cleaning, believing that if she focused on her task that she could instead drown in silence rather than lies.

Several hours came and went and still Lucie didn't move, ignoring the ache in her legs completely as they protested at being still for so long but she had no intention of stopping to stretch her legs, especially with only a handful of pieces left to do. It wasn't until her cell phone screamed at her from across the room, demanding her attention and pulling her out of her meditation. Her time at SHIELD gave her the inability to leave a ringing phone so she dragged herself to her feet and hobbled over to the bench where she had left her phone. Each shaky step shot painful sparks through her muscles and she winced each time her foot hit the floor, grabbing onto anything at waist height just for a tiny bit stability.

"Stupid damn phone," she swore, blaming it rather than herself for being so far away.

The caller ID flashed up as _Unknown _which could only mean one thing; SHIELD. These kind of calls were common in New York, during her first year as an agent and before she had been assigned to Rosetta, she took every mission offered just to build her experience. She would go anywhere, take any risk, eager to prove herself.

"Hello?" she asked.

"We need you to fly to Greenland."

She knew the voice well and immediately stood a little straighter.

"Yes, Director."

"Good, there will be a briefing packet and waiting for you at Nuuk airport, I want a status report as soon as you land."

"Yes, Sir. How soon would you like me to leave?" she asked, slowly stepping on the spot in an attempt to try and get the blood flowing again and to banish the burning ache in her muscles.

"As soon as possible."

"What about my gear, Sir?"

"You won't be needing it this time around. Good luck Agent."

She frowned, possibilities flashing through her mind at an alarming rate but ultimately arriving at the same conclusion. Desk duty. The next mission involved her being sent to man some half abandoned SHIELD base in the frozen wilderness of Greenland.

"Thank you Sir," she replied, making an attempt at gratitude and failing completely.

The second the call ended she slumped down on the bench, running a quick packing list through her head as to what she would need to go to Greenland, all she knew was that it was cold and the lack of gear wasn't usual practice.

It didn't take long for her to get on the road, disappointed that she didn't get the opportunity to see her dad while she was there

**There has been a few little hints to what's going on that won't be revealed until later chapters, let me know if you think you've found any.**

**Please leave a review and let me know what you think!**


	7. The Valkyrie

**Welcome to Chapter 6! **

**We've just hit 500 views! Thank you all so much, it's made my day!**

**There's a little bit of swearing in this but not much.**

**So, let's get on with it. **

**I don't own Marvel. I own nothing except for Lucie.**

Chapter 6- The Valkyrie

A headache pounded under the thick knitted hat that she had grabbed from the departure lounge at LAX, her teeth clenched tightly together as if to guard against the cold waiting for her on tarmac of a town that she dare not attempt to pronounce. The boredom from her flight had taken effect a couple of hours in leaving herself trapped with her own thoughts for ten solid hours as they flew over the United States, stopping off in New York and then onto Greenland. She smiled momentarily when she passed through JFK, wishing she was on her couch watching British period dramas with a bowl of heavily sweetened popcorn.

She chose to ignore that her hair would be frizzy when she eventually took her woolly hat off and that her multiple layers would make her job, whatever it was, more difficult. Despite all of this, thundering headache and aching jaw, she tucked herself into the warmest coat she could find and buried her gloved hands deep in the pocket in search of some warmth that she would be able to cling to.

Lucie did not like the cold.

The cold wasn't particularly fond of Lucie either.

While it wasn't unusual to be briefed on route to a mission, even Lucie had to agree that it was outrageous to have zero intel when she handed on foreign soil. Had it not been for Fury giving her the assignment himself, she would have assumed it was a prank, or maybe an intervention. Director Fury did not joke and it was unlikely that he would have himself swept up in the private lives of his operatives. So, being the professional she was, she started to compile a list of things she knew, or could at least assume to be half true. If the stories were anything to go by, there was a SHIELD base somewhere in the south of Greenland. Nothing concrete but it was something. She didn't care, she would happily die not knowing whether such a base existed. So long as she could be somewhere where she wouldn't have to carry around the equivalent to a super king sized duvet just to stop her shivering.

As promised, there was someone waiting at the airport for her. He seemed to blend in with the various men he was surrounded by, his black suit making him look like one of the many drivers waiting to collect passengers. Unlike the others, this man didn't hold a board with a neatly typed name, instead he stood to attention, waiting patiently behind the barrier. Professional, emotionless.

The familiar face did little to put her at ease. She hadn't expected another agent to already be on site, she didn't know what to expect in all honesty.

"Good flight?" he asked.

"Had better."

"Let's go, you're going to want to see this," Coulson said with a hint of a smile that Lucie couldn't see.

"See what? What am I doing here?"

was far more prepared for the snow than she was; almost gluing her hands to the heaters embedded in the dashboard.

"Who did we piss off to end up in the middle of nowhere?"

Coulson grinned. Like Lucie he too had been sent to Greenland with no more information than a destination.

"Who said we did?"

The base was still being constructed when he arrived on site. A makeshift structure of scaffolding and tarpaulin lit with heavy duty flood lights with plenty of armed guards patrolling the perimeter.

_Time sensitive._ Lucie thought to herself. Within 48 hours the entire thing would be gone, there would be no trace that SHIELD had ever been there. Suddenly it all made sense. There had been no information packet because there had been nothing to put into it.

The outline of a wing stuck out of the ice at an odd angle, enough to suggest that it had hit the ice and snow and then immediately been buried. There was nothing special about a plane crashing into the ice or sea, it happened all the time during the first half of the twentieth century. There were countless daredevils and adrenaline enthusiasts determined to break world records for air travel. Famous names that simply vanished from history without a trace.

Coulson didn't look surprised to see the crash site and it didn't take long for Lucie to realise that he knew more than he was letting on. Something about that particular plane had made him almost giddy with excitement in a way that Lucie had never seen before of her handler. He was a child on Christmas morning, desperate to show off and play with his new toys.

"What's going on, Coulson?" she asked as she stepped down, boots crunching as the snow slowly swallowed them.

"I'll show you inside and brief you on your assignment," Coulson said, leading her towards the make shift command centre that they had pulled together to shield the equipment against the harsh winds and ice.

Security were stationed outside in full gear complete with berets and loaded semi-automatic guns. They stood perfectly still despite the cold and they watched the agents cautiously with their fingers hoovering on the trigger as they approached, already on high alert. Not a single smile or joke was to be had, nobody even spoke unless it was essential.

Lucie raised her eyebrow, no way in hell would she be standing in cold wearing only a slightly thicker jacket than usual just because of her orders. No, she would have handwarmers, a thick hat, gloves, a scarf, the whole shebang. That was if she followed orders at all and simply refused the assignment.

"Agent Coulson and Agent James," Coulson said as they each held up their SHIELD identification. They were quickly waved through after inspection and the plastic curtain was closed behind them.

Lucie quickly put the ID back inside her coat, desperate to trap some form of heat. Snow crunched under her boots and she slipped slightly at the lack of traction. She added it to the list of reasons that she hated the cold and making a mental note to refuse any further assignments that involved her being in the Arctic Circle. Anything in the cold would be a hard pass from that point on, anything further north than Scotland would have to be negotiated with time off and a pay rise.

Each guard she passed was counted as well as making note of every exit and corridor in the makeshift base. It was a simple set up, constructed over twelve hours with metal poles and white tarpaulin that eventually met in the middle where a shipping container type structure had been flown in. Inside was a tech paradise, no expense had been spared in kitting out the lab to the highest specifications.

"If you've called me all the way up here to fix a computer issue then we're going to have problems," she said, only partially joking but eager to subdue the tension.

"Any changes Doctor?" Coulson asked.

The doctor in question looked both awestruck and exhausted. Furiously writing down his observations and reading charts.

"Brain function looks to be intact. We'll know more when he's awake." The doctor didn't look up from his paperwork, instead he sat at his desk and drank the rest of his coffee straight from the thermos.

"Someone get injured?" Lucie asked, still oblivious to what was going on.

"In a manner of speaking," Coulson said, pulling back the curtain and to reveal the man on the table.

The first thing she noticed was the uniform. It was something she had seen many times, just like every other kid that grew up in America. The red, white and blue, star spangled man with a plan. She had seen the videos PSAs, could even recite the one they reserved for detentions word for word. As if to confirm what her eyes were telling her, she looked at his face and her jaw almost hit the floor and for the first time since leaving California, she forgot about the cold.

His hair was frozen solid and she was certain that if she reached out to touch it that it would snap off in her hand. His hands were curled into tight fists, braced for impact by his sides, she could see something hidden in his right hand, a tiny amount of brass visible, something important if he had been holding onto it so tightly when he "died". There were places where his uniform was torn or scorched. The records on Captain America were largely redacted and like most agents, Lucie had tried to get access to the full reports on his missions, the story behind his damaged uniform would no doubt be buried somewhere, she hoped. All she had to do was put the pieces together.

"Holy shit."

"Agent James, may I introduce your assignment, Captain Rogers."

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Your assignment is to escort Captain Rogers back to New York for treatment and-," Coulson informed, only to be interrupted.

"Defrost him?" This question was more one of curiosity rather than shock. She tended to lean more towards the technological sciences than biology. She could pick any lock handed to her and land a knife in the dead centre of a target without issue. When it came to biology and medicine, her knowledge was pretty rudimental.

"Where he will be treated and eventually awoken."

For a few moments Lucie was completely silent with her arms crossed, biting her lip and covering her mouth with her hand to prevent any of her thoughts passing her lips, none of them coherent. Maybe three of them went beyond "what the-", "not my job description" or "I need a raise". She paused, waiting until her brain managed to make sense of itself.

"Of all the things you've asked me to do, this is by far the most outrageous. I have to escort Captain America back to New York while he thaws out like a frozen turkey, may or may not wake up and if he does wake up could possibly have the brain function of a vegetable?"

"In a word? Yes."

"Fuck."

**So there we have Steve. You didn't think I was going to wake him up in the first chapter he's in did you?**

**Please leave a review! I'm about to walk into a 15 hour shift so they would put me in a very good mood!**


	8. Times Square

**Chapter Seven. These are coming thick and fast!**

**Thank you so much for sticking with me. **

**I was a little bit mean introducing Steve like that and I promise that he will actually be awake and talking. Promise. **

**Don't own Marvel. **

Chapter Seven- Times Square.

Her eyes flicked up to the monitor every ten minutes or so; the sound was drowned out by the heavy turbines of the cargo plane as the screen displayed a reassuring and steady rhythm. The data didn't mean much but she convinced herself that so long as that steady rhythm didn't change, it meant that everything was fine. She tried to keep her mind occupied with the files she had been granted access to, following the story of Captain America in the days of the SSR. Pages and pages of documents that had only seen redacted were suddenly open for her to explore and study.

The doctor on board paced backwards and forwards, checking his notes over and over and flinching at the tiniest difference in the readings coming through his computer. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and repositioned his glasses before starting the process over again. The pen jolted in his hand as he attempted to jot something down on his clipboard, some miniscule detail that might prove important.

If she hadn't been on duty then she would have offered a kind smile but instead she barely gave him a direct glance, keeping herself busy with her own work. His nerves had been noted and the her presence wasn't helping, men like him always seemed to find confident women intimidating and ones that were armed did nothing less than terrify him. The lack of SHIELD insignia confirmed that he was an independent contractor, one that had been bought with fear rather than by money judging by the amount of sweat he was exuding. It wasn't a tactic that Lucie always approved of but even she had to admit that it got the job done.

The Captain wasn't anything like she expected. He looked calmer, more peaceful than the footage showed, even the classified photographs that had never made it into the public domain. It was easy to get caught up in the myth of the hero. Maybe the stories were true.

Fury was waiting to personally take charge of the cargo when it landed in New York. He raised his eyebrow at his agent following behind the stasis chamber that held the Captain. Of the three members of Rosetta, she was the most dramatic when it came to temperature fluctuations, still he didn't regret sending her to Greenland. She was exactly where he needed her to be.

"How was the vacation?" Fury asked.

"Hot and cold."

"Go home and thaw out. Be in my office by 1100 for full debrief."

Lucie nodded and offered a respectful: "Yes, Sir."

She stopped for coffee on the way home just in time to avoid the morning rush of commuters and desperate to get warm. Ordering the biggest coffee on the menu, she dropped a twenty in the tip jar by the till and rocked gently on her feet as they made a show of brewing her coffee. Forgoing her usual preference, she rejected the offer of cream for fear that it would draw away some of the heat that she had been craving since she first landed in Greenland.

The barista looked at her suspiciously, eyeing the heavy parka that was totally out of place in May, even so early in the morning.

"Enjoy your day now," he said without the usual enthusiasm that the coffee house was known for, instead he looked at her with suspicion.

"Thanks," she replied, quickly taking the paper cup and walking towards her apartment.

Her boots were abandoned before she had even closed her front door, dropping her bag on the floor and shrugging off her coat with an audible gasp as all the heat she managed to collect inside escaped. For once, she managed to wait patiently as the tub filled with water, perching herself on the side of the bath as she took dainty sips of her coffee. The time on her watch read five am, which gave her six hours to warm herself up, get some sleep and then get back into the office; how much sleep she got depended entirely on how long it took her to warm up.

The sun had only just started sneak across the horizon by the time she managed to lower herself into the tub and let the warmth saturate her skin.

"Come on, somewhere hot. The Sahara, Sydney, Africa, Spain." She listed off every country she had ever been that was hot, simply to try and distract herself but so far it wasn't working, praying that some residual heat from her memories might help.

By the time her cab pulled up outside, she was only half dressed. The buttons on her blouse were only half buttoned and her dark hair was still braided into a bun on top of her head to prevent it getting wet. Still, she ended up running down the stairs of her apartment building in bare feet, lacing her boots in the back seat and then attempting to make herself look slightly more presentable with the compact mirror she kept in her bag. She paid the driver with a hundred and told him to keep the change, rushing to the front door of HQ, or rather, the building dedicated to the fictional, Erasmus Insurance Ltd.

The lobby was packed with men in expensive Italian suits and leather briefcases, insurance brokers who occupied a handful of floors to keep SHIELD's cover in the city. Lucie dealt with their kind often, men riding on the coat tails of their fathers and profiting from others hard work. Occasionally, when one of them felt the need to show off to their colleagues, one would wolf whistle in her direction or offer to take her out for drinks if she played her cards right. She ignored them, the lack of reaction far more effective than anything else that she tried.

Nobody asked her for ID and she was waved past the metal detectors. They last time they tried to have security check her it took an hour just to get her through. She came straight in after a mission for debrief, still armed up to the teeth and wearing only a floor length coat over her gear. Although he tried to keep a straight face, Clint had laughed when he had to collect his former protegee and quite happily made fun of her for the rest of the week.

The Neanderthals called out to her as she approached the elevators, one even offering to take her up to her floor, directing everything he said towards her chest. With a sickly sweet smile, she gently pushed him out through the doors as they began to close, leaving him high and dry with a sarcastic wave. Once she was alone, she spoke aloud in the general direction of the security camera.

"Director's office please."

"Please provide clearance," the AI said.

"James, Lucia A. M."

"Comfirmed. Welcome Agent James."

Lucie took a breath to steady herself. The second she was observed within SHIELD she had to don a character. She immediately had to become Lucifer, even in front of the Director, becoming a character was expected.

"Take a seat Agent," Fury said, not even bothering to look up from the tablet that claimed most of his attention.

His office was minimalist, only a desk and a few chairs and entirely made of chrome and glass, even a whole wall was made of glass that gave a view of Times Square. Lucie couldn't help but wonder if the constantly flashing lights and obnoxious adverts drove him insane.

Since she graduated, the Director's office felt more like the principal's office than anything else. Even though she had done nothing wrong and had followed orders, she still felt guilty. Still, her brain offered her a long list of the marks that could stain her record, even if it was justified.

"Are you up to date on Project: Rebirth?" he asked.

"Up to its conclusion in '44, yes Sir."

"Good, and your opinion?"

"My opinion, sir?" Lucie sat back, slightly confused by the line of questioning.

"Humour me."

Lucie took a breath, thinking carefully about how to phrase her answer. She couldn't quite wrap her head around the kind of intentional considered sacrifice Rogers had made, the kind that was for a country rather than for a single person. An act so selfless that it was almost suspicious to someone who spent their entire lives questioning the motives of everyone they ever came into contact with.

"The project saved lot of people. May have even helped the Allies win the war." It was as diplomatic an answer as she could give, even if it wasn't one that she 100% agreed with. The project also lead to a lot of deaths, including the talented scientist who created the super soldier serum.

"And your family's contribution?"

"I won't speak on their behalf."

Fury just nodded, not letting his surprise show when for once, his agent decided to keep her opinions to herself.

There were many times in SHIELD when she was compared to her family's legacy and each time she was on guard. It was rare that anything good came of it.

"We're expecting Captain Rogers to wake up later today, he is going to require a supervising officer," Fury said.

"Wake him up?" she asked, completely missing the second half of Fury's sentence.

"That supervising officer will be you."

"Wait, what?"

"He's a man out of his time, it's your job to make sure that the transition is as smooth as possible."

"You can't be serious. What about Rosetta?" Lucie asked, already reading between the lines, taking on Captain Rogers was a full time position, it would mean that she would be pulled from the team.

"For now, Rosetta has been suspended and you will stand down from the rest of your active duties."

It would be a lie to say that she wasn't disappointed, more so at being made to stand down from her dream position than being assigned to the Captain.

"All agents code thirteen! I repeat all agents code thirteen!"

Immediately, both the Director and the agent were on their feet and rushing towards the elevator.

"Looks like you're starting your assignment early. It's your decision whether or not you tell him your link to Rebirth or not, it may be useful in helping him adjust to the situation. For now, your cover will remain intact."

Lucie just nodded and made sure to tie her hair up tight away from her face and released a knife from up her sleeve, allowing it to slide into the palm of her hand. Just in case.

Agents in the main entrance were picking themselves up off the floor and security by the front door were in a state of panic, no doubt sure that they would lose their jobs. In all fairness they couldn't have stopped Captain America if they tried.

The trip wasn't worth the car journey and Lucie would have happily followed on foot rather than the armoured SUV that the Director used. No sooner was the door closed than they were getting out again, in Times Square no less.

"At ease soldier!" Fury ordered.

Immediately the Captain was surrounded by agents in suits. They may not be dressed in camo but it was obvious that they were soldiers.

Lucie stood by Fury's side, weapon safely stowed and palms facing outward to show that she wasn't armed or dangerous. Every step Fury took, Lucie mirrored, all the while she carefully studied the Captain's demeanour.

For some reason she couldn't even begin to fathom, he was dressed in a white SSR t-shirt and a pair of caramel slacks. Someone had even styled his blond hair in a 1940s style. Lucie rolled her eyes, clearly they had not paid enough attention to the details if their plan was to slowly bring him round to the idea that 66 years had passed.

"Look, I'm sorry about that little show back there, we thought it best to break it to you slowly," Fury claimed.

Captain Rogers just looked confused, in complete disbelief despite the evidence in front of him. He ignored the screens that covered Times Square, as if they would go away if he paid them no attention.

"Break what?" he demanded.

"You've been asleep Cap," Fury answered. "For almost 70 years."

It was at that moment that his world fell apart, accepting what was so blindingly and painfully obvious. He turned, looking around at the crowd that was beginning to gather and the screens that advertised Broadway shows and banks and technology. The square was certainly more hectic and bright than it had been back in the 1940s. Screens advertising Broadway musicals and banks and TV shows and stock prices; it was all too much information to process.

Lucie took a tentative step towards him, hands still raised as if to prevent bolting like a spooked cat.

"It's going to be okay. My name's Lucie, what's yours?"

The fact that she already knew wasn't the point, the question was a tool, a simple tool that halted the spiralling process, pulling him back into his own reality, into himself.

"Steve."

"Well, hello there Steve. It's nice to meet you. Are you going to be okay?" Lucie asked, more to break the silence and to distract him from letting his thoughts run away with him.

"Yeah, just" the Captain confirmed, not really thinking about his response. There was only one thing, or rather one person on his mind. "I had a date."

**So Steve is awake. Fury has a plan. Lucie isn't who she says she is. **

**Please leave a review, they make me happy. **


	9. Overload

**Welcome to chapter 8!**

Chapter Eight- Overload

Every eye was on them as they walked through the main operations floor. Agents unable to tear their stunned gaze away as a legend walked amongst them. The agents that had surrounded them in Times Square had dispersed, leaving the captain with only Director Fury and Agent James. Neither of which he trusted. He had so many questions, so much that he needed to figure out, all the while he kept reliving the last conversation he had with Peggy. He was supposed to go to the Stork Club, she was going to teach him to dance.

The elevator ride back to Fury's office was a quiet one, the tension already building. Lucie did her best to ignore it, instead standing with her hands folded behind her back. For some reason, Lucie expected there to be a doctor or a shrink waiting for them, a professional that was going to explain the situation and then what was going to happen next. There was nobody. A pit started to form in her stomach that was growing by the second but she dared not let her face betray it.

"Captain Rogers, allow me to formally introduce Agent Lucia James, she'll be acting as your liaison with SHIELD. Anything you need or want goes through her," Fury announced, gesturing to the agent that was standing just outside of the conversation.

"What is SHIELD exactly?" he asked.

"The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. They really wanted it to spell 'shield'. It was founded by some colleagues of yours, Howard Stark, Colonel Chester Phillips and Peggy Carter." Lucie was proud to say the least as she listed the founders.

"Peggy?" Rogers asked, almost shocked.

Lucie smiled. "One hell of a woman, Agent Carter."

"She sat in this very chair until a few years ago," Fury said. He would never say it out loud but Peggy Carter was the only person that he was ever scared of. The woman still had a lot of power at her disposal. More than enough to remove the director if she wanted to.

"Is she…?" Rogers was quiet, not being able to bring himself to finish the question.

"She celebrated her 90th birthday in the spring. Her family came over for lunch," Lucie smiled, hoping that the knowledge would bring him some kind of comfort.

Instead, he gave Lucie a sceptical look, suspicious of not only the information but how she had got hold of it. She tried not to react, she was used to a certain level of distrust.

"We have a few tests to run downstairs, just to make sure that you're completely healthy before we release you. An apartment is being prepared in the same building as Agent James and will be ready later tonight."

The logistics of being a liaison hadn't really registered in Lucie's mind, it was a position she had never taken before and it wasn't as if she could ask someone with a similar position. Even Natasha, the agent with an answer for everything, wouldn't have a job description for her.

"Thank you, Sir."

"The world has changed Captain, but it still needs someone like you. We hope that you'll eventually be able to return to your duties." Fury's words came as a surprise to both Rogers and Lucie, the latter having no idea that it was Fury's intention.

Rogers nodded once.

"Agent James will show you down to medical. She has an appointment anyway."

"I do Sir?"

"A suggestion from Barton. You're to report to Dr Bertrand."

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary."

"Barton's was a suggestion, mine is an order. Am I understood?"

Lucie ground her teeth. "Yes, Sir," she submitted, repressing the urge to give him a mock salute on the way out.

"This way, Captain Rogers."

The second the elevator doors closed Lucie could feel a weight being lifted from her, the frustration still at the forefront of her mind but she didn't feel like a balloon about to burst anymore.

"If you don't mind me asking ma'am, aren't you a little young to be an agent?" Rogers asked.

"Don't you look a little young to be born in 1918?" she countered, shaking her hair free and wrapping her hair tie around her wrist.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tiny flash of black metal that she quickly covered with her sleeve. His posture tightened ever so slightly.

"Touché. So you have to go to medical too?"

"Orders are orders."

"You don't agree." An observation rather than a question.

"If Barton thought I had a problem, he should have come to me instead of running and telling tales to Fury. I'm fine."

Rogers didn't look convinced but he didn't want to push her.

"Honestly I'm fine. If I thought I had a problem then I would already have been to see the doctor. It's no big deal."

This time, he didn't answer, letting the subject drop from their already forced conversation.

"So why were you assigned to me?" it came out as an accusation and that hadn't been his intention.

"It's a long story."

He didn't argue but made a note of the avoidance.

Black and white photographs and line drawings lined the corridors, some of weapons being used on the battlefield, some were patent diagrams and a few were portraits of agents long passed.

Without realising the loss of momentum, Rogers stopped at a diagram of a car, the top corner bore the logo of Stark Industries and the bottom of the page showed the signature of it's inventor; Howard Stark.

"If anything becomes too much, you want it to stop, just tell me and it will. If you want me to leave the room then I will, " Lucie promised, keeping her voice low and calm as he studied the page.

"How do I know that I can trust you?"

"You don't, you'll have to test it," she answered with a shrug of her shoulders.

For a moment, he tried to figure her out. He knew nothing about the new world he had found himself in and still wasn't convinced that it wasn't all a fabrication or a dream or something else he couldn't explain. She was confident, he knew that much, and clearly very comfortable walking around the corridors of SHIELD, almost like she owned the place. Maybe she did, after all, he knew nothing about her. Other agents stared at her as she led him towards the medical centre and then did a double take when they saw him, Lucie either didn't notice or didn't care; he wasn't sure which.

The medical centre of HQ was quiet, this wasn't uncommon since it was mainly used for reviews and physiotherapy. The vast majority of injuries sustained by agents were treated in the field or the way back to the US. Still, there were still five beds in individual rooms and a small operating theatre, all state of the art and fully stocked for every eventuality. Between them, Rosetta had been a patient in them all.

Rogers stopped at the door and Lucie stood beside him, waiting to see if he would carry on. There was a whisper of fear on his face that she wasn't meant to see and it occurred to her that she wasn't stood with Steve Rogers, she was escorting Captain America, he had put on his mask and hadn't taken it off since Times Square. That was why he had been so quiet and so calm, he was biding his time. So, she did the only thing she could think of, she took his hand. Immediately he looked down at her and was met with a warm smile.

She expected his hands to be rough and calloused and covered in scars but they weren't. They were soft and careful and strong. There wasn't a sun spot or a blemish in sight, not a single imperfection to be seen. They were hot but not clammy and Lucie remembered something she had read about the effects of the serum on the body, one of them being a slightly raised temperature. After Greenland she had found herself clinging to any source of heat, not quite able to shake the shudder that she had picked up.

"It's fine, Rogers. We'll get this done and then I'll take you home and we'll order enough pizza to create a shortage in Italy."

By the looks of things, Fury had made sure that medical was empty for the captain's arrival, in fact, the corridors had been pretty quiet by SHIELD's standards and Lucie's phone hadn't gone off once.

"Agent James, it's been a minute," the doctor said with a warm smile on her face. des

"Monroe. I've been staying out of trouble,"

"That's not what I hear." Monroe looked at her with fond eyes, barely chastising her. "Dr Bertrand is waiting for you in his office."

"He can wait. Captain, this is Doctor Monroe Dupriest, she tends to be the one who patches me up when I end up in here," Lucie countered, still determined that she wasn't attending the appointment. "You're in good hands with her."

"I've had a lot of practice on Lucie over the years." The doctor shook offered her hand. "Pleased to meet you Captain Rogers."

"Doctor Dupriest," he replied, almost reluctantly dropping Lucie's hand to politely shake her hand.

The doctor in question was a kind looking woman in her mid-forties, with teased hair and thick lashes. There was a calming southern drawl to the way she spoke and oozed confidence and charisma. In the short time that he had known her, Rogers knew that it would be a very bad idea to go against her medical opinion and guessed that Lucie had done just that on more than one occasion.

Doctor Dupriest guided them towards the far end of the unit where the largest exam room had been set up. Various posters hung on the wall, everything from Jaeger eye tests to anatomy to warnings against sepsis and PTSD. It was yet more information for him to take in and he slowly began to switch off, desperate to focus on one thing to distract himself from the world around him. He soon found something to drown out the noise and as Doctor Dupriest checked his blood pressure and reflexes and a number of other things, Rogers found himself looking at Lucie. Her boots weren't regulation and there were slight scuff marks to the toes, he wasn't surprised by this since she wasn't wearing a uniform. As the doctor checked his chest, he watched Lucie fling tongue depressors into the trash can on the opposite side of the room with astounding accuracy, needing something to occupy her mind. She wasn't the only one.

"One more and your next patch up will be done with no anaesthetic," Monroe warned without looking up.

Lucie smirked and gently set down the remaining contraband. "Sorry, Monroe," she apologised, not at all sincere or remorseful.

**So we've had Steve's brief visit to medical and next we've got Lucie's visit to the shrink, a visit that she has been ignoring, hence Clint getting involved. **

**I know we don't know much about Lucie so far, the plan was to learn as Steve does which is why it's been a little slow, I just needed you all to know that Lucie was kind of a mess before she was assigned to Steve.**

**Like I said in the bio, this is a slow burn, it's going to take a while for Steve to trust Lucie and Lucie to trust Steve.**


	10. Trust Issues

**Nearly at 1000 views! Thank you all!**

**Sorry this is later than I planned, I'm out of my usual routine so everything is a bit chaotic.**

Chapter Nine- Trust Issues.

The walk to Doctor Bertrand's office was a quiet one, the captain not wanting to intrude on the silence and the agent, wallowing in it for as long as possible before she would be forced to speak. Lucie didn't knock. Instead, she opened the door and dropped down into one of the empty chairs.

"Ah, Agent James. You're late." The doctor didn't look up from his screen. "Sit."

"Is this going to take long?" Lucie asked.

Their session very quickly turned into a verbal sparring session than an actual conversation. Lucie lounged in her seat like a disrespectful teenager sat in front of the school principle.

The captain frowned, not at all impressed by her display of rudeness but otherwise kept his thoughts to himself, quietly making up his own mind and building opinions.

"How many hours have you logged on the range in the past fortnight?" Bertrand asked, switching from the screen to a pen and a leather bound notebook.

Steve watched them volley words back and forth, allowing them to easily fall into a rhythm.

"Sixteen," Lucie admitted, half proud, half defiant.

"Alone?" Bertrand raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"No."

"Barton or Romanoff?"

"Yes."

"Any nightmares?"

"None."

"Flashbacks?"

"Nope."

The doctor finally looked up with an expression of pure disbelief, firstly at Lucie's answers and then the man sat beside her. As a man in his late sixties, he was well aware of who the man sat to her right was.

"Captain Rogers, I didn't expect you to be here," Bertrand froze for a second, the momentum of his interrogation interrupted.

"Please, carry on Doctor," Lucie said, laden with fake enthusiasm. "Will this take much longer?" The smirk plastered on her face didn't escape notice. Using the surprise to her advantage, there was no way that he would be on his usual behaviour with Captain America sat on the far side of his desk. The man that everyone seemed eager to impress.

Lucie subdued a victorious smile, knowing that it was the end of the interrogation. There was no way that Bertrand would push things further than he already had, not with Rogers watching.

"Fury has ordered 20 hours of therapy before you're back in the field."

"I'll take Wilson," she argued.

"You'll be under my treatment."

"No, I won't." She sounded so certain and so confident that for a moment, Rogers wasn't sure that Doctor Bertrand was going to disagree with her. She was no longer slouched, instead she sat forward, leaning on the desk in front of her. Oozing power and confidence.

"I'll see you on Tuesday morning, Agent James," Bertrand gave her a victorious smile, closing his leather notebook and returning his attention to his computer and ignoring her completely.

Lucie was ready to argue, standing up from her seat and turning towards the door, determined to have the last word. That was when she was interrupted, ending the discussion there with a single threat masked as politeness, she doubted that the captain even noticed.

"Say hello to your grandmother from me, won't you."

He couldn't see her face from where he sat, but the way she froze set off alarm bells. Somehow the doctor had managed to push a button that left her fumbling for control.

Just as she put her hand on the door knob, a spark of inspiration hit her and she shot a vicious smile across her shoulder.

"Now, why would I want to ruin her day by reminding her that you exist?" she spat, slamming the door behind her with such force that it merely bounced off the door jamb, the glass giving an alarming rattle from the impact.

She was half way down the corridor by the time he caught up to her, rage emitting from her like heat from a flame. This time, he dared brake the silence.

"That was… intense," he said, struggling for a moment to find the right word.

"Bertrand is a dick. He likes to use your weakness against you. Pathetic little man."

"Yeah, I got the impression that you don't get on, ma'am."

"I don't trust him," she announced with a huff.

Together they stepped into the elevator and Lucie tapped one of the buttons for one of the floors near the top. It wasn't as high tech as the elevator that led to Fury's office but somehow, he managed to find comfort in the small detail that hadn't seemed to change. Even if it was only an elevator.

"You know, you don't have to call me ma'am, right?"

"Then what should I call you?"

"Most people call me Lucie, friends call me Luce."

"Is that what we are? Friends?"

"Maybe not yet, but you've got to start somewhere," her voice was warm with a smile that completely contradicted the one she offered Bertrand. This one seemed more genuine and there wasn't even the consideration of a threat. "Besides, you just watched me and the asshat therapist go up against each other."

"You can call me Steve."

"Nice to meet you Steve," Lucie replied, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He reached out and they briefly shook hands. Her grip was firmer than he expected, for someone so small, she was certainly strong for someone who had hands were so soft.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"My office. I just need to pick some things up and then we can head over to my place until your apartment is ready."

"Barton and Romanoff. That's who the doctor asked about," Steve noted, pointing briefly to the names printed in frosted glass on the door.

"I trained under them both before we were all recruited to the same team."

Lucie did her best to shove some papers into various trays in an attempt to look tidier. By the looks of it, it had been couple weeks since anyone had set foot inside, not even the cleaning staff dared enter for fear of setting off one of Natasha's booby traps.

"We share an office. It's easier, just whatever you do, don't touch that desk," she said, tilting her head towards the only tidy portion of the room.

Considering the rest of the shared office looked like a bomb had gone off, the part that Natasha had claimed was positively spotless, not a pen out of place not a weapon holster empty.

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Good because it's almost certainly booby trapped and I haven't figured them all out yet," Lucie advised, quickly checking the lock on the tall metal cabinet that stood in the far corner of the room.

"Noted."

Lucie didn't sound concerned which automatically seemed to put Steve at ease. He got the impression that a booby trapped desk was an everyday occurrence for her.

"I'm sorry, I haven't had much time to prepare. I don't really know where to start."

Steve considered which of his questions to ask first, settling on the one he deemed most important.

"What happened to my friends?"

Lucie stopped looking at the papers and instead getting up and taking a book from the small shelf in the corner. An American flag emblazoned the front cover with the title in bold, canary yellow letters. _The Howling Commandos: The Men behind the Legend._ She handed the book over and let him study the cover for a moment.

"This was written in the sixties so there's a lot that isn't in there. It's a start."

"Did they make it?" he asked.

Lucie offered a sympathetic smile. "Morita, Falsworth, Jones and Juniper all passed not long after the war. Dum Dum Dugan, Jones and Sawyer are all alive, they've all got families now. Jones' grandson works for SHIELD and Dugan often gives lectures at the academy, he's quite the character."

"He always was." Steve smiled, remembering happier times; difficult and dangerous, but still happy. "What about Agent Carter?"

Lucie smiled. "She retired a few years back, she lives in the countryside with her family, even has a couple of dogs."

"She had a family?"

As soon as she saw his face, she felt sorry for him, worried that she had said the wrong thing. His face was painted with such pain and disappointment. He kept his gaze low and avoided eye contact at all costs and Lucie didn't push him, deciding to keep to the facts. To keep things simple as to not overwhelm him further, she was well aware of the relationship between he and Peggy Carter, even if it had been kept off both official and unofficial record.

"She does."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, how about I catch you up as chronologically as I can?" Lucie suggested, a poor attempt at a distraction.

"Whatever you think."

He found himself studying her again, she was definitely more relaxed now that she didn't have medical breathing down her neck. Together they sat on the small couch that Clint usually claimed. Her legs were folded under her in a position that Steve would have found uncomfortable.

"Okay, bear with me. My World War Two history isn't great."

He waited for a few moments as she scrolled through files.

"So how did you end up at SHIELD?" Steve asked.

"Erm," Lucie began, thinking carefully how to phrase things. "I was recruited when I was a teenager.

Everything had happened so fast that she had yet to work out a cover story for herself, or rather, how much she was willing to give away. SHIELD had encompassed her life so completely that she often found herself peering through her cover stories in an attempt to figure out her own life.

"Isn't that a little young to be a spy?"

"Who said I was a spy?" Lucie grinned, earning herself a hint of a laugh.

**We've got roughly four maybe five chapters until we reach Avengers. Not far now!**

**Oh and please leave a review!**


	11. Coffee and Crosswords

**So, we left Steve and Lucie on a first name basis.**

Chapter Ten- Coffee and Crosswords.

Not wanting to overstep the mark, Lucie slept at home once she got Steve settled in his own apartment, leaving her phone number dotted in various parts of the apartment and simple instructions for the shower and microwave.

When the door closed behind her and Steve was left with nothing but silence to keep him company. Given the choice between the chaos and the silence, he would have chosen chaos. For a while he just sat on the sofa, keeping a careful eye on the front door unsure of what to do with himself, daring not to touch anything. A lifetime ago, Steve would never have dreamed that such an apartment could exist, the living room alone was bigger than the apartment that he and his mother shared as he grew up.

The first decision that he made for himself in the twenty first century was a mundane one. On the tour that Lucie had given him, she had pointed out the master bedroom and the massive bed that was looked more like a piece of art than a piece of furniture. The pine structure faced the window, perfectly positioned to see the skyline. There were multiple blankets and scatter cushions and comforters in various shades of perfectly matched blue that looked too pristine to disturb. It screamed comfort, yet to Steve all he wanted was to grab a couple of blankets out of the closet and curl up on the sofa. Now the sofa was a different matter entirely because it looked uncomfortable, bought for style rather than function or comfort. It was a tight squeeze but eventually he managed to drift off, if only for a few minutes.

The chrome clock that hung in the kitchen told him it was 1:45am when he gave up trying to sleep. He wasn't even sure if he was trying to sleep, half convinced that he would never have to sleep again after his spell in the ice.

The bookcase by the TV seemed well stocked with a variety of books, some fictional, some not. Abandoning sleep entirely, he scanned the titles before coming to one that caught his attention. _The Unofficial Biography of Tony Stark. _

"Stark," Steve said to himself, weighing the book carefully in his hands and studying the face on the front. The subject of the biography certainly looked familiar, no doubting his father. This was Howard's son. The blurb confirmed it. Lucie had given him no information on Howard, the playboy scientist inventor that had been a key part in his story.

The early chapters covered the billionaire's childhood, his accomplishments and a rocky relationship with his father. Steve's heart sank, flipping through the pages until Howard was mentioned again; hoping to read that eventually father and son put aside their differences and similarities and were closer for it. But that isn't what happened because the next time his old friend was mentioned, it was concerning his death. An accident in the winter of 1991 in which he and his wife had both perished. Steve smiled at the only ray of sunshine that he could see; Howard had settled down, become a husband and father, Howard had grown up. He didn't read much after that, deciding to completely change the subject.

Once again he scanned the titles, unsure of which were fiction and which weren't. Was _Cloud Atlas _a map of the skies? There were magazines on one shelf that were months out of date, not that it mattered to Steve, some were trashy celebrity gossip rags, others were serious scientific publications and others were mainly crossword puzzles that he decided he was going to dedicate the night to. Some of the answers he didn't know, _Ocean's Eleven Actor George (7) _or _Communication system for gorilla Koko (abr.) (3). _He excelled at the art and synonym clues.

Every now and then, the various post its around the apartment would demand his attention. The one held onto the fridge had a note written in thick black pen, her phone number and a message to follow.

_Call anytime. Just a phone call away. _

_Lucie James._

She seemed nice, if a little defiant. He hadn't met many women in 2011 so he wasn't sure if her confidence was the new social norm or if she was just exceptionally comfortable with her own worth. Either way, it was still slightly intimidating. The more he thought about it the more he realised that it wasn't confidence, that was only part of it. Had she been around in the forties, Steve would never dared approach her.

"Steve?" Lucie called, the door half open. "Captain, it's Lucie James."

Steve was pulled out of his thoughts when he saw her in the doorway.

"I knocked. Is everything okay?" she asked, setting down the paper bag on the kitchen counter.

"Of course everything isn't okay," he spoke so quietly that he barely heard himself, still, it was the first time he felt anything other than overwhelmed.

"I stopped by the store around the corner, I didn't know what you'd like so I just kind of got everything."

Either she didn't hear his comment, or she was intentionally ignored it because she immediately set to work. The tossed four slices of bread in the toaster and filled the coffee machine.

"Coffee?" she asked, shrugging off her hoodie and draping it over the back of one of the barstools.

"Why are you here?" Steve demanded, not moving from his seat on the sofa, the one that faced a mostly blank wall rather than the window.

"Breakfast. How do you take your coffee?" she persisted.

"Why is Fury setting me up like this? What does he want?" Steve demanded, slamming the puzzle he had been working on down onto the coffee table.

Lucie huffed, pushing her mug under the stream of coffee that was just making its way through the machine. "Who knows why Fury does anything? It's not like he tells me anything."

"Yet you still do exactly what he says."

"What makes you think that? What, because I'm here? I'm not here because Fury told me to, in fact when it came to you, he gave very few details."

While Steve's anger was threatening to boil over, Lucie didn't pay much attention to it. If he wanted to blow off some steam then she would let him, to a point.

"Fury is my boss, that doesn't mean I have to like him. I took this assignment because I think I can help you," she said, buttering a stack of toast. "You're separated from your team in unfamiliar territory, can't go back and not sure how to go forward."

"You have no idea what this is."

"No, and nobody but you ever will. I do however know what it's like to rely on your team. To be more than just parts of an engine that work together, to be family. If I lost Clint and Natasha, I don't know what I'd do." She physically shuddered at the thought, trying to banish the thought from her mind.

"Look, I'm not here to get you to move on and forget your life. All I'm here to do is make sure you're prepared enough for the world you've landed in. Once you're acclimatised, you never have to see me again, but for now, you're stuck with me." She grabbed another mug and set it down on the counter with a determined look in her eyes. "So, one last time. Coffee?"

"You don't give up, do you, Lucie?" Steve asked.

"Nope," she said, popping the 'p' and topping up her coffee. "Back at SHIELD yesterday, I wanted to apologise. I shouldn't have made you come into that appointment with Bertrand."

"He seemed to push your buttons."

Lucie scoffed. "You could say that. He tries to bench me at every opportunity. It's payback, my Grams used to be pretty high up back in her day and she benched him, permanently."

"Benched him? What for?"

"He froze in the field. Some agents were captured, and we didn't get them all back."

"That's one hell of a grudge he's holding on to."

"Fury's set up a few appointments with one of the psychiatrists at SHIELD, I'm trying to make sure you're with someone unbiased."

"I don't need you to fight my battles, Lucie."

"I don't intend to. I can't promise that I won't try and set you up for them the best way I know how," she smiled and although he was ready to be on the defensive.

Somehow, and he didn't know how she had managed it, she wasn't condescending. In the ten minutes that she had stood in his kitchen, he had gone from angry and uncertain, to calm and tempered. Falling into conversation was easy. It was easy to forget for a few moments when she was around, she commanded that much of his attention.

"I brought you todays paper by the way, sorry, I started the crossword. Hope you don't mind?"

Steve gave a hint of a smile at Lucie's faux guilt, taking the newspaper from her and started to read through the clues that hadn't been completed.

**We don't have many chapters left until we hit Avengers. You're going to get a bit of a bombshell before Steve. **

**I managed to get a new job so that should at least tide me over until they open the bars again! Now that I'm back in a routine, chapters such be much more regular. **

**For every review I will drink a shot of gin. God knows I need it. **


	12. Sound of Silence

**We're getting so close to Avengers, it's going to be the chapter after the next one and lets just say that there will be fireworks. It's never going to be plain sailing for Lucie. **

**This is a slightly shorter chapter than usual.**

Chapter Eleven- Sound of Silence.

Even when it was raining, Central Park had charm, drew people from all over. Kids on the grass kicked a soccer ball between them, ignorant of the rain shower that threatened them. The rain didn't seem to deter the afternoon joggers either who seemed determined to carry on.

Lucie shook her head at the ones who considered running a hobby rather than an essential skill. Training was important but even she failed to keep a straight face when she overheard two women close by. It was easy to tell that they jogged to be part of a trend, they would give it up after a week or so. Their matching outfits would soon find themselves stuffed at the back of the closet.

"Well, I still need to lose twenty pounds for the wedding," one woman said. They jogged past, their pace slower than most of the people who were out for a stroll.

They reminded Lucie of the girls she used to run into along the California coastline. It felt like months rather than a week since she lay on the sand and she wondered if her dad had got her note. She freed her cell phone from her pocket and hit dial, typing in the number and counting anxious breaths. It made no difference, it rang until his answer machine kicked in, there was no greeting message.

"Hey Dad, it's me. Thought I'd check-in. Love you." It was the same message as always, short and sweet; in case the worse happened.

Admitting defeat, she put the phone back in her pocket with a sigh and turned the corner onto her block. Ahead of her, contractors went back and forth carrying timber and toolboxes as they bantered. The tarp above the door advertised a boxing gym aimed at keeping kids off the streets and out of trouble. Lucie made note of the name and filed it away in her brain for later in the day. A gym away from SHIELD had its advantages.

The rest of her walk back had nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn't until she hit the lobby of her apartment building that the dread began to saturate in her stomach. Other than the doorman's radio by the door, everything was quiet. All the good Central Park had done to cleanse her mind was gone.

Lucie spent a lot of her time enveloped in silence, a state that she treated with the utmost suspicion. She hated going back to her apartment where everything was calm and still. A lot of people would have loved that kind of tranquillity but she feared it. Instead, she had trained for the fight and allowed her instincts to keep her alive.

Lucie made sure to leave her apartment silent every time she left so when she heard the music it set off alarm bells. She eased the key into the lock and turned it without making a sound. Shadowing the door, she opened it enough to slip through the gap and closed the door behind her. She tiptoed to the wooden table by the door and felt for the underside. A loaded handgun was waiting, strapped to the underside of a drawer for such an occasion. Her gym bag grazed the floor without a sound until it was free of Lucie's hand, making it easier to investigate. The TV had been off when she left, it made no sense for it to be blaring music. She bent down to untie her laces, stepping out of them with ease and letting her move around without a sound.

To her right, the bathroom door was still closed, showing no signs of disturbance. Undeterred, Lucie kept her grip firm and her focus sharp. An intruder was likely but didn't inspire fear if anything they would be afraid of her. Each step brought her closer to finding out who had the nerve to break into her apartment.

In a moment, her instincts shattered, switching from threat to neutral. All it took was someone half butchering the song playing on TV. Pots clattered in the kitchen, disguised in part by the obnoxious pop music. With a deep sigh, Lucie slipped on the safety and replaced the weapon in its hiding spot.

"So raise your glass if you are wrong, in all the right ways!"

Dancing around the kitchen in yoga pants and a sports bra was Natasha, singing at the top of her lungs.

"Why do you insist on murdering pop songs, Nat?" Lucie announced, making sure it was loud enough that she didn't get shot herself.

"Because it's fun," she answered without so much of a flinch at the interruption.

In truth, Natasha was more than capable of carrying a tune. American Idol wasn't on the cards but she wasn't bad.

"What are you cooking?" Lucie asked, ignoring the ingredients that littered her kitchen. In her experience, the ingredients were rarely clues to Natasha's cooking, best to ask and get it out of the way.

"This woman I met gave me the recipe for the most amazing Thai green curry."

"What happened to Singapore?" Lucie said.

Natasha shrugged with a jovial raise of her eyebrows, admitting nothing, denying nothing. Business as usual.

It was clear she had come straight from debrief. A duffle bag was being neglected by the washer in favour of the ingredients laid on the countertop. Cooking was one of those skills that hadn't been a part of Natasha's education and it showed. Lucie didn't mind, she wasn't picky and Clint would eat a coffee table if it had enough ketchup on it.

"So, how's the new assignment going?"

"How do you… who told you?"

Natasha gave her an unashamed grin, enjoying Lucie's ignorance. It was an expression she never wore at work, never wanting to break character. It was light-hearted and warm, relieved to be off the clock and taunting her friend as regular people did.

"So, Captain America. Does the man live up to the legend?"

Natasha tore open a share sized bag of candy and tossed one in her mouth.

"Not sure. He might."

"Give him time, he might prove himself," Natasha said; she threw another piece of candy and caught it in her mouth.

"He'll prove himself? How am I meant to prove myself?"

"Depends on how you want to play it. Who are you going to be?"

It was a frequent question in their line of work; with dozens of covers to chose from it was difficult to choose. So which tool was best suited to the job? Which personality should she adopt to gain the trust of Captain America?

Lucie shrugged, perching herself on the one free space on the countertop. "I can't figure out if he's an asset or a colleague. I don't know how to play this without coming out the bad guy."

Unless the request was explicit, Natasha didn't hand out advice. A rule that applied especially to Lucie who handled advice with the efficiency of a paper umbrella. The younger agent refused all help unless she asked. Stubborn fool that she was. Whether she liked it or not, it was a string that would have to make its way into her metaphorical bow. It would make her a better agent when she did.

Despite this, Natasha would quietly guide Lucie from the shadows, making sure she learnt the lessons she needed to until she no longer needed to. Protecting Lucie from herself in the way that nobody had ever done for Natasha. The first kill was always a hard experience for an agent and although she would never tell Lucie, it was the reason that she was back from her mission so soon. She needed to see things for herself.

Lucie's pocket vibrated and she pulled her phone from her pocket to see if it was worth answering. Smiling when she saw her father's photo flash on the screen.

"You best take that," Natasha suggested, dumping the candy on the counter. "I'm going to grab a shower."

**Is anyone else having to properly think about what day it is? No idea where I'm at, my body clock has been knocked to shit.**

**Once again, thank you all for sticking with me this long! **

**Please leave a review and let me know what you think.**


	13. Duty Calls

**So we've hit 1500 views! Thank you!**

Chapter Twelve- Duty Calls

The apartment was still pretty much the same as when Steve moved in four months prior. The same mass-produced prints hung on the wall, detailing various parts of New York City in black and white. The Statue of Liberty. Grand Central Station. The Empire State Building. The lack of colour seemed to make them timeless, another world away. More reminders of how far from home he was.

For the first few mornings, he had been on guard when the door clicked open at 8 am. He would sit straighter and stay his breath; his fingers would turn white against the book he was holding, cutting off the blood flow. If you asked him, he wouldn't be able to pinpoint the day when he met her with a smile rather than caution. She would take her spot in at the kitchen counter with offerings of coffee and fresh pastries, determined to help him find a favourite.

"How do you afford this every morning?" Steve asked, inspecting the icing on top of his donut after the taste wasn't quite what he expected. He had never broached the subject of money before.

"SHIELD pays well," Lucie said, a little too fast, all too happy to change the subject. "What do you think? Does it make the top five?"

"Well, it doesn't beat Jessops. What's in the icing?"

"Lavender. I'm not sold."

"Agreed," Steve replied and abandoned the discarded donut in the box, instead choosing a safer blueberry muffin.

"No gym last night?" Lucie asked, noticing his bag up by the door rather than in its usual spot by the washing machine.

"Going this morning instead."

"Mind if I join you? Fury said I can be back on active service by the end of the month." She smiled as she spoke, excited at the prospect of being back in the field.

"Oh," Steve replied, taken aback by her return to work so soon but trying to mask his disappointment. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but over the three months that he had been awake, she had earned his trust.

"Course, I mean, if you can keep up that is?" he smirked.

"Please! You couldn't do my job if you had a century of training," Lucie scoffed.

Still, there was no malice in their words, two friends teasing each other.

"And why is that?"

"Because you don't have Natasha."

It was true, there wasn't anyone in the world that trained recruits like Natasha Romanoff, she had made sure of it. Even then she didn't commit to training would-be agents, Lucie had been a fluke and the rest was history.

"Ah, the infamous Natasha. Do I ever get to meet her? I'm starting to think she isn't real."

"Next time she's on leave we'll go out and you can both swap war stories," Lucie promised with a smile. Steve didn't need to know that Natasha had already asked, that it was Lucie was setting the pace.

They agreed to meet at the gym so that Lucie could grab her bag and Steve could return some library books; an errand that was becoming more frequent. In the three months since SHIELD had pulled him from the ice, Steve had read every book the library offered on World War Two. None of it made for pleasant reading but he felt compelled to find out everything he could. They had told him they had won, nobody had told him the cost. What had been the price of freedom?

An hour later, he used t into the gym with a bag full of yet more books. Sign up sheets by the door boasted enough names to be a roaring success among the kids, convincing the owners that they needed to extend. During school hours, the gym was empty, making it the perfect place for Lucie and Steve to train. The entire back room closed off from the main club to as renovations were underway, the club having long since outgrown the original space. Posters from long ago held fights and meetings lined the walls, faded by the light and dating back to the early 1930s. It was doubtful any of the decoration was authentic but the aesthetic was somewhat calming.

While he waited, Steve wrapped his hands and hung up one of the bags. He had landed barely a handful of punches in when he heard the fire exit slam behind him and he immediately turned. Ready for anything. His hands relaxed at his sides when he saw it was Lucie looking somewhat distracted and frustrated.

Her hoodie almost drowned her, well worn and faded, the SHIELD logo had even started to peel away above her heart. Neither one of them acknowledged the holes consistent in size to be from bullets.

The fashion of the 2010s had been shocking but Lucie, as usual, tried to make it a simpler transition. She seemed to favour practicality, paranoia clinging to every decision she made. Times had changed, hemlines or fit were no longer a symbol of virtue and virtue didn't hold the same weight as in his New York. Lucie had chosen her gym outfit with Steve in mind, nothing too tight to make him uncomfortable but with enough structure to offer support.

"What, did you take the scenic route?" he teased.

"I wish, my dad's in town and he wants to get dinner one night while he's here."

"How often is he in town?" Steve asked, curious about the father that Lucie very rarely spoke about.

"Usually it's a flying visit but he's thinking of moving out here."

"To be closer to you?"

"He says for work. It wouldn't make much difference anyway. He thinks I'm in the army," she half laughed at her own lie. "He doesn't know I work for SHIELD, it's not the kind of thing he would be okay with."

"Won't he notice if you're in the city?" Steve asked.

"He's not the most observant." There was a dull sadness to her voice and a resignation that would never change. In an unconscious attempt to distract herself, she began to wrap her hands, concentrating on the path of the material.

While waiting, Steve noticed a pair of nude pointe shoes rested on top of a fresh set of clothes.

"Ballet shoes?" Steve asked.

"It helps with balance and strength." She smiled and set to work warming up her feet, making it look effortless as she tested her flexibility. "I found them this morning, a souvenir from an assignment. 10 months in Dallas as a dancer." There was a literal shiver as she began tying the ribbons of her shoes and hiding the knot.

"Bet it's a bit different from the last time I was there," Steve mused, shoving the memory aside before it could form. Those were not happy times, Rebirth had been for so much more than selling war bonds and yet they had put him on a stage.

"Different from the last time I was there too, I'll bet." she offered a kind smile.

Around his apartment, Lucie always seemed to be banging into things; coffee tables and door jambs often seemed to sneak up on her. She would utter some expletives and give it a wide birth until she forgot to. Seeing her in pointe shoes was downright eye-opening, never had Steve expected such grace from her so so little effort in crossing the floor. There would be no sign that her foot touched the floor, there were no heavy exhalations as her heart rate increased. Each movement was careful and concise, perfect and confident in its execution. He was by no means an expert, always more a fan of baseball than the ballet, but she was captivating in the way she made her movements look so effortless.

When the time came for them to train together, Steve was more than reluctant to take a swing. Lucie rolled her eyes, not used to chivalry in the ring. It was something she had never experienced in the field, you exploited every advantage you could grab and didn't let go.

"This isn't going to be much of a sparring session if you're playing defence," Lucie said. "Just hit me."

"I don't-," Steve started, interrupted by a high pitched shrill that broke the concentration.

Lucie stepped away out of Steve's reach and followed the sound to her phone.

"Hold that thought."

With a glance at the caller ID on the screen, she quickly pressed the phone to her ear. "Coulson."

Steve couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, but he saw her smile drop and he jaw tightened. Immediately he too was on his guard.

"When?" she asked, her voice strained but determined. Gone was the warm smile from when they sparred, instead she wore was a cold fury.

Without so much as a glance his way, Lucie began throwing her things into her bag, each item bulging through the pale canvas.

"Get me on the next flight. I'll need a full pass, I want my entire cache waved through. Is Romanoff en route?"

Whatever the response, she seemed satisfied, her shoulders relaxing for a split second.

"I'll call when I'm onsite."

Somehow she even looked angry when she ended the call, taping end and throwing the device into her pocket.

"Everything okay?" Steve asked, knowing fine well that it wasn't.

"I have to go."

"What happened?"

"A base has been breached, agents compromised."

"I thought you said that you weren't back on active duty until the end of the month?" Steve asked, already a step ahead as he spoke it aloud.

Lucie steadied herself, being cautious of what she said. Time was short and the sooner she was in Death Valley the better.

"Emergency protocol. I'll get in touch when I can. In the meantime, keep your guard up."

"Good luck."

"Fuck knows I'm going to need it," she half mumbled, throwing her bag over her shoulder and storming out of the room.

**Here we have it, the shit has hit the fan, Lucie's off to Death Valley to try and pick up on Clint's trail. We've hit Avengers. There are a lot of scenes from the next few chapters already written.**

**So, I've cut things a little short when it comes to the bonding between Lucie and Steve. I've decided to use flashbacks where its relevant because I'm stuck at the point in editing where I have so much stuff I'm drowning in it and I can't decide what should go in and shouldn't.**


	14. The Andraste

**So we've officially hit Avengers. Steve won't be in this one much but it's probably going to be a big one. **

Chapter Thirteen- The Andraste.

Flying commercial was always infuriating. Too many people looking and in a post 9/11 world, always on the lookout. Coulson had pulled as many stings as possible for Lucie to be on that particular flight but all she could do was wait. There were no new reports or sightings of Clint and Death Valley had been silent since the attack. The agents already on the ground had insisted that there were no leads to follow but she ignored the claims. There was always something.

Every half hour or so, a brave member of cabin crew would offer her something to drink and every time she sent them away with nothing more than a glare. Every call for service danced on her patience, pushing her temper to breaking point. Clint hadn't turned, it made no logical sense to her.

Her cell phone buzzed with impatience on the table, texts from Steve that demanded her attention that she was glad to ignore.

It was a skill he had not long got the hang of, treating them more like letters than quick messages. He always signed then with his full name, something that would raise a smile on any other day.

She changed into her uniform in the tiny cubicle, taking comfort in kevlar and leather. For the first time in her career, she had no weaponry, not a single knife to draw upon. The suit had provided a sense of security and a sign that things were about to change. 30 minutes from McCarran International. Almost time to go.

A car was already waiting when she stormed out of arrivals and she made quick work of slinging her go-bag into the trunk. Her sanctioned weapons cache was already there, organised into a solid metal trunk. The number of knives and other weapons inside would make small countries jealous. It would be easy enough to bring those small countries to their knees. A bold claim for a trunk small enough to fit in the back of an unassuming civilian vehicle.

By the time she reached the base in the sands Death Valley, someone was already waiting for her. She knew it was him from a literal mile away, the floor-length black coat a void against the sand. Not even knowing it was possible, the pit in her stomach deepened. Fury wasn't only involved in the investigation; he was leading it.

She stepped out of the car armed to the brim and Rosetta tactical gear. Everything about her appearance was regulation right down to the laces on her boots. There would be no place for error.

"Director. This isn't Barton, someone has to have blackmailed him," she tried.

"It's far more complicated than that. There isn't anything here for you to find. The base imploded in, it's buried beneath about a million tonnes of sand." Rather than look angry, Fury seemed calm, a far more dangerous alternative.

"Sir, let me scout the area. There could be intel on the escape route that's gone unchecked. I know what to look for," she suggested, trying not to let her desperation leak through into her words.

"Agent James, you are to report immediately to the Andraste," the Director ordered.

"Yes, sir." She tried not to argue, knowing it would do her no good.

"Agent Romanoff will meet you there. Carry on, Agent James."

Instead, she retook her position in the driver's seat drove up the sand dusted road. Only when she was out of sight that she let frustrations loose. She screamed into the steering wheel and slammed her elbow into her window. There wasn't enough space to do much damage to the car, or herself. That tiny amount of aggression gave her a chance to breathe, to take a full breath without fear choking it in her throat.

By the time she reached the Andraste, the investigation had thankfully gained some traction. A scared-looking admin officer handed over an intel pack with shaking hands and too fast footsteps. Without her usual manners, Lucie took the pack from him and walked away.

It had been seven hours since someone had opened a doorway through space. Seven hours since someone had walked through said door and killed the majority of agents on base and selected a handful as his puppets. Watching the footage it was clear what had happened. Those that came into contact with him would change in an instant, they clung to his every word. And then Clint shot the Director. Lucie's temper shattered. Her foot snapped forward, launching the table in front of her across the room. Every piece of equipment crashed to the concrete into small shards of glass, plastic and wire.

Nobody dared check the destruction until Natasha gave a lazy knock against the metal bulkhead. She too was in full uniform although her weaponry was far more subtle. Every agent has their own weapons preference, most went for guns, the reliability of gunpowder and metal. Others like Lucie went for knives. She wore the blades themselves like armour but only three were etched with her initials. A gift from graduation gift from Clint that she couldn't bring herself to look at.

"You find anything?" Natasha asked, closing the door behind herself and taking a seat at the empty desk.

"Nothing. Did you see the footage?" Lucie asked, holding up a tablet that showed the few moments before Clint fled with the insurgent.

"Yes." Natasha's jaw was tight, each word she spoke controlled with care "It's like nothing I've ever seen before. Have you spoken to him recently?"

Lucie nodded, pulling up their last conversation on her phone.

"He was fine. Bored but fine. There's no way that he's turned, he can't have. This Loki guy, what do we know?"

"As far as we know its where Norse mythology comes from, there was in an incident in New Mexico-,"

"Wait, wait, wait. Everything we know about Viking mythology, is actually aliens?"

"It makes sense, what happened to Clint isn't normal."

"I thought you said that we had to consider all the options?" Lucie said with a raised eyebrow.

"I am," Natasha admitted. "That's not all, Fury's designated it a level 7. He's calling everyone in. There's a briefing pack but all the rookies were too scared to bring it in."

Natasha handed over the file, far thicker than their usual pack. Then again, a compromised agent wasn't usual territory for them either. The file didn't have a plan of action, they would save that for the briefing since it would be ongoing. Instead, it showed the team selection. The first page was that of Captain Steve Rogers.

"Fuck." Lucie threw her head back, staring at the ceiling as if it would somehow make all her problems disappear.

"Captain Rogers is due to arrive any moment, you can introduce us," Natasha smirked the way she did when she was up to no good.

When Steve stepped off the quintet with Coulson, he was already searching for her. They had given him the most basic of intel and he had to put it together himself as best he could. A turned agent that demanded Lucie's premature return to the field. He didn't know what to expect, she had left in such a hurry that he wondered if she would still be in her gym gear. Instead, he could hardly recognise her.

She stood head to toe in thick black kevlar and leather, her hair pulled away from her face emphasising the sharp contours of her face. She stood impossibly still and balanced, even as the deck moved with the ocean tides. Throw all the obvious weaponry she donned like jewellery and looked nothing short of intimidating.

It was the kind of reaction that Natasha thrived on, even enjoyed to a point. Building the myth of reputation from the ground up until it was fact rather than fiction. It was a skill she was adamant that Lucie would master.

"You figured out how you want to play this?" Natasha asked.

"Bloody carefully." For a split moment, a brazen English accent broke through. Her profanity betraying her.

"Looks like Fury decided for you."

"Don't suppose you could accidentally on purpose throw me over the edge so I don't have to deal with this?" she was only half-joking.

"No can do. Don't worry, you'll be fine…Eventually."

"Agent James, you already know Captain Rogers of course. Agent Romanoff, Captain Rogers." Coulson beamed. He had won the lottery, escorting his hero into battle.

"Ma'am heard a lot about you. Agent James."

"Captain Rogers," Lucie replied, conscious of the fact that Steve wanted the keep things professional. She would play along given the circumstances.

"Hi. They need you on the bridge, they're starting the face trace." Natasha was back in work mode, her usual humour pushed to the side while there were other people around.

"See you there. James, you have three hours." Coulson offered a kind smile, one of only a handful of people who understood why she was so on edge.

"Thank you," Lucie replied. Not enough time. She thought. Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket and clenching her hands hard enough to draw blood.

Natasha offered a second of eye contact, an old code between them that translated to "Got your back". It was never in question, but the reassurance allowed Lucie to take a moment to breathe.

"It was quite the buzz around here, finding you in the ice. I thought Coulson was going to swoon," Natasha joked, drawing Steve's attention away from Lucie who was taking a moment to collect herself.

"He did."

"Did he ask him to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?"

"No, but it's still early." Lucie turned to Steve, snapping herself back into the conversation. "He's very proud of them. You're kind of his hero."

"Trading cards?" Steve asked in disbelief.

"One of these days I'm going to show you how much merchandise they brought you with your face on it."

"Doctor Banner."

"Yeah, hi. They told me you were coming."

"Doctor Banner, this is Agent Lucia James," Natasha said, indicating the younger woman to her left.

"We've met before, nice you again Doctor Banner. I read your last paper, solid argument you put out there."

"Thank you." For a moment, Banner looked confused, searching his memory for where he knew her face. That was the problem with crossing paths with an intelligence organisation, there were a lot of people who weren't who they claimed to be.

"Word is you can find the cube," Steve said, breaking the silence and drawing Banner back into the conversation.

"Is that the only word on me?" Banner began to fidget, his hands desperate for something to do. Anything to draw his attention away from the surrounding stares. He looked around, doing a mental count of how many people he could see, how many people were at risk because of him.

"Only word I care about."

Lucie wasn't at all surprised by this response. Natasha who looked marginally impressed, looking towards her teammate for confirmation.

"It must be strange for you, all of this."

"Well, this is actually kind of familiar."

"Natasha, they're taking us out."

"Gentlemen might want to step inside. It's going to get a little hard to breathe."

"Is this a submarine?" Steve offered. He looked over to Lucie for an answer, a habit that had quickly become second nature.

"Really? They want me in a pressurised metal container?" Banner mused.

"Other way," Lucie laughed, raising her eyebrows towards the thick clouds above.

Both men stood in confusion until she gestured for them to look over the edge of the flight deck where the engines began to rise from the water with powerful waves surging from the boat and bit by bit, the ship began to rise clear of the water.

"Gentlemen, welcome to Helecarrier Andraste."

**What do we all think? Are you liking the longer chapters? Hating them? **

**Next we have Stuttgard so the introduction of Iron Man and a run in with Loki and Clint. **


	15. Stuttgart

**Welcome back!**

**We've hit 2000 views! Thank you all so much!**

**So this is a long one, there was a lot to get in that foreshadows later chapters and helps things make sense for the next chapter.**

Chapter Fourteen- Stuttgart

Lucie and Natasha led the way to the bridge, the latter being unable to stop herself from glancing back at the reaction of their respective charges. As always, the bridge was busy, the hub of all operations. Agents lined the computers and desks, some on active duty, running the operations for individual missions that were still ongoing, others running searches for Clint and Loki.

At the helm, for want of a better term, was Director Fury, stood in the middle of the room surrounded by screens that gave him a summary of live information, still monitoring everything.

"All engines operating. SHIELD Emergency Protocol 193.6 in effect. We're at level, Sir," Agent Hill called.

"Good, Let's vanish."

"What does he mean?" Steve asked. "Vanish?"

"There's technology covering the exterior, it makes us seem invisible," Lucie explained, well aware that Banner was already ahead of them looking for exits in case of a code green.

"Gentlemen," Fury greeted, masking his confusion completely when he was handed ten dollars from the Captain, instead focusing his attention on Doctor Banner, a man who he knew only be terrifying reputation.

"What was that?" Lucie whispered. She folded her arms across her chest and took a second to study Fury's reaction, one she had never seen before; confusion. When she glanced towards Steve, all she saw was smug pride.

"Last time we spoke he said he could never be surprised."

"You clever son of a bitch." Lucie smirked, never having seen this side of Steve before. Together, they stood on the bridge, silently laughing between themselves like naughty school children. If Fury knew about it then he didn't let on.

"Doctor, thank you for coming."

"Thank you for asking nicely, so how long am I staying?"

"Once we have our hands on the Tesseract, you're in the wind."

"Where are you with that?" Banner looked hopeful, taking the Director at his word for the time being.

"We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet. Cell phones, laptops. If it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us," Coulson said, it would have been almost reassuring if it wasn't a massive breach of privacy.

"That's still not going to find them in time."

"We need to narrow the field. How many spectrometers do you have access to?"

"How many are there?" Fury asked nonchalantly.

"Call every lab you know, tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking algorithm based on cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places. Do you have somewhere for me to work?" Doctor Banner said.

"Agent Romanoff, would you show Doctor Banner to his laboratory please?"

"You're going to love it Doc, we got all the toys."

"Agent James, you'll be moving out as soon as we have the Tesseract's location. Bring Barton in if you can, but the Tesseract is your primary objective. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Please show Captain Rogers to his quarters, a briefing pack is waiting for him."

"This way please, Captain."

They were silent until they reached the elevator and Steve made careful note of the agents they passed, they looked at them both in disbelief though the agents faces told wildly different stories. As usual, everyone saw Captain America, the icon that was the tool of so many of America's triumphs during the Second World War. There was no such gratitude when they looked at Lucie. As young as she was, she inspired fear and Steve wondered to what extent she lived up to her code name, Lucifer.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, she started to talk, barely a whisper at first. "He's a good guy."

"Excuse me?"

"You know Barton's one of the reasons I joined SHIELD?"

"He was?"

"My Grams, she was pretty high up in SHIELD. She was always careful when it came to me but someone had been watching her and when I was six, someone kidnapped me to get to her."

"Kidnapped you?"

Lucie nodded, allowing herself, just for a moment, to be lost in the memory. "There was a faction and the easiest way to get to my Grams was through me. They pulled the fire alarm at my school, grabbed me in the confusion. They broke my arm so I wouldn't run away but otherwise they didn't hurt me."

She rolled up her sleeve to reveal a faded scar from the surgery to place the pins.

He must have seen her in her gym gear dozens of times, all of them either short sleeved t-shirts or her sports bra, yet he had never noticed the raised line that ran the full length of her forearm. He had noticed a few of her other scars, a bullet wound here, sutured stab wound there. Every now and again she would offer up the stories, usually involving Rosetta.

"It was Clint who found me, handcuffed by my broken arm to a radiator. He held onto me so tight and I had never felt so safe. He didn't let go of me, not even when he took his tac gear off."

"Lucie, I know it's hard, to have someone break your trust."

"He's been brainwashed or something, none of this is him."

Having never met the man, Steve didn't share Lucie's unshakeable loyalty. In fact, her unwavering trust in the agent was starting to worry him. Everything about her was off, from the way that she stood to the way she was pulling her hair into two braids.

Back in his own time, women weren't permitted to serve in the military on active duty, the closest anyone had ever come had been Peggy Carter. Steve wondered what she would think of Lucie, would she admire her drive or would she see it as reckless, would her loyalty be an asset or a liability, would she understand that he didn't feel guilty about getting close to another woman? He didn't know.

When the doors opened, Lucie stepped out first, leading Steve to the room he had been assigned. It was plain, clearly not meant for long stays, boasting only a bed, a chair and a small table that held only a single file.

"This isn't so much a plan as a roster of everyone Fury has called in."

"Other agents?" Steve asked, thumbing through the pages.

"Some. It's called the Avenger's Initiative, a team for only the most serious of missions."

"I thought that was what Rosetta was?"

Lucie smiled. "Rosetta was the team that took the dangerous missions that nobody else would take." It felt like a decade ago, the good old days when they broke up crime syndicates, corrupt governments and trafficking rings. But it wasn't, it was barely six months since the last Rosetta mission. Six months since she had laid eyes on one of her best friends.

"What is this team supposed to do?"

"Recover the Tesseract. That's all I know," she said, twisting a pin artfully into her hair so that both her braids were secured to the head.

She pulled her phone from a small bag attached to her belt, checking for any messages that might have come through. Now on board a SHIELD base, she was in almost full gear. Her boots were laced up to her knees and while well worn they still had hundreds of miles in them and if he looked closely enough, Steve would be able to see ten individual knives attached while another four were hidden from sight. These matched the matte black knives that encircled her upper right thigh and the standard issue handgun that was strapped to her left. "You better catch up on that file, you're going to need it."

"Agent James, you're needed on the bridge," came a voice by the door.

Coulson sucked in his lip and his eyebrows betrayed the trace of a nervous frown as he carried two cases into the room.

"I'll leave you to it. Looks like you're suiting up with the rest of us," Lucie declared, setting off for the bridge with half a smile.

Once she was out of sight, Coulson set the smaller case on the table and the larger on the bed.

"This, unlike your suit, we haven't updated."

He opened the case to reveal his old shield. He assumed that too would be lost at the bottom of the ocean like he had once been.

"We were going to give it a fresh paint job but Agent James argued against it. She thought that you would prefer it this way."

"She was right," Steve whispered, tracing his fingers over the four scuffs in paintwork. The fury that Peggy had been wearing flashed in front of him, one of the only things he had left of her.

"You wanted to see me Sir?" Lucie asked.

"Yes. I wanted to formally give you the opportunity to step down which you no doubt will politely decline," Fury offered.

"Maybe not so politely," she murmured, petulant child who had just been handed the offer of a lifetime and rejected it out of stubbornness.

"If he never wants to speak to me again after all of this then I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. I don't appreciate my personal life being on the table."

"You personal life has no interest to me, that is until it interferes with SHIELD. Be careful Lucia."

The use of her first name set her on a knife edge and she felt her grip tighten on the blade stashed up her sleeve.

"We got a hit! Sixty-seven percent match. Wait, cross match, seventy-nine percent," Sitwell announced.

"Location?" Lucie asked, able to identify the grainy image herself. It was Clint.

"Stuttgart, Germany. 28, Konigstrasse. He's not exactly hiding."

"Shit."

Clint coming out of hiding and making a scene was the worst possible time to try and capture him. They wouldn't have the element of surprise and there would be active strategies against the two agents capable of bringing him in.

Already determined she would be going to Germany, a quick glance the Directors way told her all she needed to know. He wouldn't fight her.

"Go. Good luck Agent."

A lot of these galas were the same, an extortionate amount spent on a party in the name of charity. The men dressed respectably in tuxedos, their security donning far more budget friendly options while the orchestra played melodies from a long past time, composers that had long been considered the height of sophistication.

Lucie was dressed in one of these budget friendly suits, standing by the stairwell in a position that she couldn't be easily watched. None of the guests seemed to be standing out, there were diplomats from all over German from all kinds of business and government, narrowing them down was probing to be impossible.

"Sure this is the right place Romanoff?" Lucie asked quietly.

"He's there," Natasha promised.

Having Natasha's voice in her ear made it easier to slip into treating their current predicament like any other mission, they had even agreed to refer to Clint only as "the asset".

"I got eyes on Loki."

"Do not engage. Leave him to us," Natasha replied.

"We shouldn't have sent her in there."

"We didn't send her anywhere; she agreed to go," the spy argued, already drawing conclusions about the man who up until that afternoon had been nothing more than her best friend's assignment.

They had zero intel on Loki, something that was more than frustrating for all involved; still, Lucie watched as he glided down the staircase and took out one of the security guards with an impressive swing of his staff.

"I'm telling you, the asset isn't here. Loki's getting his hands dirty on this one. We need to re-evaluate."

"Stay close," Natasha ordered.

Barton hadn't been the primary target yet all of the limited intel they had managed to collect had led them to believe that Barton would be on sight running the mission on Loki's behalf. Not only were they wrong but they were ill prepared. Lucie and Natasha knew Clint's playbook inside out, it was something that they shared but it was clear that the plan they were interrupting wasn't Clint's.

"Loki's taken a hostage."

Lucie watched in horror as Loki slammed a man down on one of the museum exhibits with enough strength that it would leave the man with some permanent damage. That wasn't the end of the civilians torture as Loki pulled something from his jacket that left the man screaming for his life; Lucie was glad that she couldn't see what was happening, the sound alone would echo in her mind for months. She was used to seeing horrific scenes, it came as part of the job; yet somehow a civilian with his eye carved surgically from his skull while still screaming didn't even make the top five, even if it made her feel sick to her stomach.

Shooting Loki wouldn't do anything but draw attention to herself and they needed him outside where he could walk straight into the trap that they had laid for him.

"Coming your way Romanoff," Lucie said as she followed cautiously behind him.

"I got him." Natasha answered, watching from the screen onboard the quinjet. "You're clear to move to secondary position."

"Kneel before me!" Loki ordered.

People ran for cover, tripping over themselves and each other on the night time street. Someone had called the police and a cruiser came skidding around the corner with sirens blaring, only for Loki to blast it out of action.

"I said…Kneel!" Loki screamed, identical versions of himself surrounded the crown, fencing them in like sheep.

Out of fear, people began to sink to the floor as the god stood above them with a smile.

"Is this not simpler? Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom-"

"I'm in position. Make your move Captain," Lucie said. She had missed the majority of Loki's performance, using what little time she had to move onto a balcony where she had stashed a rifle. Bullets wouldn't stop him but they would slow him down enough to capture him if that's what it came to, especially with the sceptre at his disposal.

A man stood from the crowd, bravely standing up in defiance of someone far more powerful than he.

"Not to men like you."

"There are no men like me," Loki argued, looking offended by the thought that he could be contained by a category.

"There are always men like you," the gentleman said.

His bravery had captured the wrong kind of attention and his bravery would not be rewarded by the Asgasdian, rather than admiration, all it inspired was fury.

"Look to your elder, people. Let him be an example." Almost gleefully, Loki raised his sceptre as the blue stone began to glow, building energy until it shot out of the stone only for it to be shot back at Loki via the Captain's shield. Choosing that moment to make his entrance in order the save the man who no doubt fought in the same war as he had.

"You know the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing."

There was a physical change in Steve as he assumed his character, the man from the show reels that built a modern day legend, oozing confidence and righteousness.

"The soldier. A man out of time."

"I'm not the one out of time," Steve countered, not unsettled by the tiny detail that Loki felt the need to share.

"Loki, drop the weapon and stand down," Natasha ordered.

The god aimed the sceptre at the quinjet and with a grin allowed the light to quickly build. A single gunshot rang out just as the energy shot out and Loki dropped the sceptre to the floor, the energy missing the quinjet by mere meters giving Steve the chance to throw his shielf. Loki swatted it away like a fly at a picnic, an annoyance, not a threat.

"Kneel!" Loki demanded, holding the Captain by the back of the neck.

Steve took a breath, tensing up the muscles in his legs and springing upwards to once again regain the upper hand.

"Not today."

"Guy's all over the place. Can you get a shot?" Natasha asked.

"Negative," Lucie admitted, throwing the rifle against her shoulder and heading for street level.

AC\DC sounded over the speaker system, _Shoot to Thrill_ echoing around the town square.

"Agent Romanoff, did you miss me?"

Both Steve and Loki looked to the sky, the metal man blasting Loki to the ground, stunning him far more than a single bullet had done. Lucie didn't look up, instead she slowed her pace. The situation with Loki well and truly handled, she didn't need to be on alert anymore.

"Make your move, Reindeer Games," Tony suggested although everything about the suit and the power that it possessed saying otherwise.

Lucie was the last to board the quinjet, tempted to grab a helmet on the way in to avoid the inevitable blow up when they were on the way back to the helecarrier. Instead, with a pit burning in her stomach and every nerve in her body telling her that every step she took was a mistake, she entered silently, hanging her rifle back in her weapons locker.

Loki was already restrained, his wrists and ankles shackled together

As if sensing the impending chaos, Loki sat up as straight as his restraints would allow him.

"Mr Stark, the third member of our team, Agent Lucie James," Steve announced, trying to be polite.

Tony stared at her, dumbstruck at the woman stood before him, armed to the teeth and completely unexpected.

"Say something," she begged.

"Lucie James huh?"

"Do you two know each other?" Steve asked, alarmed by the current standoff.

"Something like that," Lucie replied.

Tony sniggered, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her in the direction of the cockpit where Natasha was.

"Hey!" Steve called, not happy with the fact that Lucie was being manhandled.

"Steve, it's fine," Lucie replied, her head down and her eyes apologetic, sad even.

"Did you know about this?" Tony spat.

"No, she didn't," Lucie tried, only to be interrupted as she managed to shake her arm loose.

"Yes, I've always known."

"Natasha!"

"The games up. I will however, remind you that we have a prisoner onboard so any discussion should be delayed until back at base." There was no room for arguments and neither Lucie or Tony would go against her, not with Loki sat mere feet away, enjoying the show.

The grin on Loki's face was only wiped away when they flew into a sudden and unexpected storm, the thunder violently shaking the quinjet.

"Where's this coming from?" Natasha asked.

Lucie strapped herself into the co-pilot's seat and started inspecting the instruments on the dash.

"No idea."

"What's the matter? Scared of a little lightning?" Steve asked, picking up on Loki's sudden change in demeanour.

"I'm not overly fond of what follows."

**So Lucie and Tony have history and he's not pleased to see her. **

**This chapter was supposed to introduce Thor as well but I've had to split it into two parts because the word count was getting a little high. **


	16. Thunderstruck

**Welcome back, last chapter was a long one that I split in two so here's the other half.**

**I don't own Marvel, if I did then Black Widow would have had her own movie ages ago.**

Chapter Fifteen- Thunderstruck.

Lightning struck the quinjet and the ramp was ripped open. Except it wasn't lightning, it was a person, a king. Without a single word, he marched along the deck and grabbed Loki by the throat only to fly through the breach.

"Another Asgardian?" Natasha suggested.

"Think the guy's a friendly?" Steve asked.

"Doesn't matter. If he frees Loki or kills him, the Tesseract's lost." Tony's helmet snapped into place and he turned to pursue the two Asgardians.

"Stark! We need a plan of attack!" Steve shouted, the wind drowning most of his voice out.

"I have a plan. Attack."

Without so much as a glance towards the cockpit, Tony jumped.

"I'd sit this one out, Cap," Natasha suggested, still trying to battle against the turbulence as she and Lucie held onto the steering gear in an attempt to steady it.

"Don't see how I can."

"These guys come from legends, they're basically gods," she added, pointing out the obvious and speaking as if to a child.

"There's only one God, ma'am. And I'm pretty sure he doesn't dress like that." Steve grabbed one of the parachutes that were strapped to the wall and strapped it to him.

"Steve we're in the middle of a storm!" Lucie shouted.

"I'll be fine."

"You're a reckless idiot!" Lucie screamed; it was too late, he had already jumped. She slammed her hands against the dash and screeched. "What is it with the men in my life being liabilities?! My blood pressure can't handle this team."

"What you going to do? Quit?" Natasha challenged with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't tempt me."

"Is he always like this? An adrenaline junkie."

"You have no idea," Lucie laughed.

By the time they reached the Andraste, Loki was safely back in SHIELD custody. The other Asgardian identified himself as Thor, someone who SHIELD had had dealings with before and his sense of justice outweighed the love he had for his brother. They sat around a briefing table watching as Fury gave Loki a warning about what would happen if he tried to escape. Only Thor stood, listening rather than watching the footage on-screen.

"Loki's going to drag this out. So, Thor, what's his play?"

"He has an army, the Chitauri. They're not of Asgard or any world known. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the earth. In return, I suspect, for the Tesseract."

"An army? From outer space?"

"So he's building another portal. That's what he needs Erik Selvig for."

"Selvig?"

"He's an astrophysicist."

"He's a friend."

"Do it makes sense for Selvig to be involved, he's had experience with Asgardian technology.

"Loki has him under some kind of spell, along with one of ours."

"I wanna know why Loki let us take him. He's not leading an army from here."

"I don't think we should be focusing on Loki. That guy's brain is a bag full of cats, you can smell the crazy on him."

"Have care how you speak. Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard, and he's my brother."

"He killed eighty people in two days," Natasha reminded.

"He's adopted," Thor countered, honestly looking slightly embarrassed.

"Iridium, what did they need the iridium for?" Bruce asked, not familiar with the element that had been stolen.

"It's a stabilizing agent," both Tony and Lucie said in unison.

"Are you still here?" Tony scolded, shooting daggers towards the young woman who rather than being intimidated just looked annoyed.

"Let's take this outside, shall we?" Lucie suggested, rising from her seat and gesturing towards the door. Almost daring him to make a scene.

"You'll have to wait. The adults are talking." He swatted her away, determined to ignore her for the foreseeable

"Play nice, you don't want to do this here," Natasha warned though tight lips. More a warning to Tony than it was to Lucie.

"The iridium will keep the portal from collapsing in on itself like it did at SHIELD. That way Loki can keep it open for as long as he wants." Tony had already distracted himself from Lucie, walking to the command centre on the bridge and inspecting the screens.

"How does Fury do this?" he asked, covering one eye as.

"He turns," Hill replied, arms folded against her chest. She had little patience for Tony's childish antics. The agent was still in agreement with Natasha's original report that barred him from joining the Avengers Initiative.

"That sounds exhausting. The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. Only major component he still needs is a power source. A high energy density, something to kick start the cube." Unbeknownst to everyone else, he pressed a tiny device against the console, an invention capable of breaking through every one of SHIELDs defences.

"When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?" Hill challenged.

"Last night. The packet, Selvig's notes, the Extraction Theory papers. Am I the only one who did the reading?"

"No," Lucie smirked, thrilled to be able to take away some of Tony's edge.

"Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?" Steve asked, specifically to Bruce since he didn't want to get in the middle of whatever was going on between Lucie and Tony.

"He's got to heat the cube to a hundred and twenty million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier."

"Unless Selvig figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunnelling effect."

"Well if he could do that then he could achieve Heavy Ion Fusion at any reactor on the planet."

"Finally, someone who speaks English."

Tony reached out his hand and Bruce shook it, an introduction between two of the best scientists of their generation, both of their reputations proceeding them.

"Is that what just happened?" Steve asked, leaning slightly towards Lucie.

She didn't respond.

"It's good to meet you, Doctor Banner. Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled. And I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster."

"Thanks," Bruce replied sheepishly. He hoped that that part of his identity wouldn't be as common knowledge yet.

"Doctor Banner is here to track the cube, I was hoping you might join him."

"You can't be serious Fury?" Lucie said.

"I am very serious Agent, my offer still stands." It was a warning, a final get out of jail free card. One that she rejected.

"That stick of his looks a hell of a lot like a HYDRA weapon."

"I don't know about that, but it is powered by the cube."

Both Natasha and Lucie sat up a little straighter, barely catching each others eye but their message was clear. Fury was lying. HYDRA had control of the Tesseract during the second world war, it made perfect sense for them to have used it to make weaponry. So why was Fury lying about it?

"I'd like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys," said Fury.

"Monkeys? I do not understand."

"I do!" Steve looked around, noticing everyone's expression at his sudden outburst. "I understood that reference," he continued, still proud of himself. The vast majority of Lucie's references went over his head and they weren't as funny when the joke had to be explained.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Shall we play, doctor."

With a loud scuff, Lucie stood and launched her chair backwards across the floor. She was out of the door before it crashed and tipped to the floor.

Natasha didn't move to follow her, knowing that it wouldn't do any good, she would have stopped Steve from doing the same if she thought she could. Instead, she just sat in silence.

In an attempt to lose him, Lucie took the long way around the helecarrier before eventually ending up at the lab where the sceptre was being held. She had managed to shake Steve off her trail but clearly he knew her too well since he was already in the lab when she arrived, finding Steve and Tony already arguing.

"Fury is the spy, his secrets have secrets. Here comes one now," Tony said as Lucie walked through the door. "It's bugging him too. Isn't it?"

"Uh, I just wanna finish my work here and…" Banner tried, doing his best not to get involved and remain diplomatic.

"Doctor?"

"'A warm light for all mankind' Loki's jab at Fury about the cube. Well, I think that was meant for you," Banner said, pointing towards Tony and taking a blueberry from the bag that he was offering.

"Stark Tower? That's his play?" Lucie asked. There was no other building like it in the world, especially given the way that it was powered. It made sense.

"Well, Barton would know all about that wouldn't he."

"I didn't tell him anything about Stark Industries," her voice was low, almost a growl.

"Why Stark Towers specifically?" Steve asked, trying to steer the dialogue to somewhere more productive that wouldn't end up in a fight between the two.

"Agent James is right, Stark Towers has been all over the news, Barton probably got it from there," Bruce tried, earning an eye roll from Tony and a 'told you so' smirk from Lucie. "It's powered by an arc reactor, self-sustaining energy source. The building will run itself for what, a year?" he continued.

"That's just the prototype. I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now." Tony, for once wasn't bragging, it was a simple fact and not the first time that his innovation had made him a target.

"So why didn't SHIELD bring him in on the Tesseract project? I mean, what are they doing in the energy business in the first place?"

"Lucie, you got anything to say before my decryption programmer finishes breaking into all of SHIELD's secure files?"

"I wasn't assigned to the Tesseract," Lucie argued, each word forced.

"You sure it's not something else you've neglected to mention?"

"You're one to talk! I had to find out from Natasha that you were being vetted for the Avengers Initiative?" Lucie countered.

"What is going on with you two?" Steve demanded.

"You know what, my apologies, Captain. It seems that you haven't been properly introduced. You see, this fine young woman before you is Lucia Stark."

"Stark? As in?"

"He's my dad," Lucie admitted. She couldn't make eye contact with Steve, not as the one lie she told him unravelled

"That means that…"

"Howard was my grandfather? Yes."

Now he knew he could see the similarities; the confidence as she stood and the surety of her words. The glint in her eye as she smiled and then there was the obvious, her intelligence.

"Just find the cube," Steve murmured, taking the opportunity to leave in a far less dramatic fashion than either of the Starks would have done.

"Well done," Lucie spat once the door closed behind Steve.

"What's the matter Lu? Lies finally catching up with you?" Tony countered.

"You want to know why I'm here? The agent that was taken, he's a friend of mine. He trained me."

"So you're doing this out of loyalty to him?"

"Remember when I broke my arm when I was a kid. Grams lied, I didn't break it at gymnastics, I was kidnapped. It was Agent Barton who rescued me. You owe him a debt so I suggest you stop trying to sabotage my job and get on with finding him and the cube."

Tony paused for a moment, he remembered that he had come home to find her tucked up in bed with a purple plaster cast on her wrist. She was so small back then but once the initial shock was over she was fine. After a few days she was even asking him to drawn on her cast for her. There was no comparison between that sweet little girl and the formidable woman stood before him.

Lucie plastered on her most professional smile and turned to Bruce.

"Thank you, Doctor Banner, please let me know when you think you've found the cube. I'm sorry for bringing our family drama into your lab. It won't happen again," she promised and turned on her heel to follow the Captain out of the room.

**Dun dun DERRR. There we have it, Lucie's big secret.**

**We had a lot to cover in this chapter so it's pretty dialogue heavy and I've cut a lot from the movie but I hope you're enjoying it anyways.**


	17. Courting Chaos

**So there was a bit of bombshell last chapter and there isn't going to be much time before things hit the fan. **

Chapter Sixteen- Courting Chaos.

It wasn't very often that Lucie got to watch Natasha fly solo. It was like trying to figure out a magic trick with only half the information. There were often times that she would walk out of an interrogation with her subject completely unaware of the information they had just disclosed.

Lucie watched the entire scene from the screen outside while perched on a chair, her legs folded beneath her as she twisted a switch blade artfully between her hands. The movements of her hands helped to distract her, the same way that some people tapped their fingers or chewed on the end of a pen. It was vital that she practiced, sure it kept her fingers nimble and constantly enforced the muscle memory that she had built up over the years since choosing her weaponry but the most important thing was that it kept her mind occupied. It usually took a couple of moments but it always, without fail, closed off the part of her mind that went into overdrive, forming details for events that likely wouldn't happen. Each twist relaxed her, focused her and allowed her to concentrate completely on the interrogation that had only just begun.

"There's not many people who can sneak up on me," Loki smiled, as if everything was going perfectly to plan.

"But you'd figured I'd come," Natasha added, setting up her play.

"After. After whatever tortures Fury would concoct, you would appear as a friend, as a balm. And I would cooperate."

If it hadn't been Natasha doing the interrogation then that likely would have been the plan, the traditional good cop, bad cop. However, for an interrogation to be successful on Loki, they would have to be far more sly.

"I want to know what you've done to Agent Barton." Her statement was true, she did want to know, but was the beginning of a false trail, one that Loki was all too happy to stroll down.

"I'd say I've expanded his mind."

"And once you've won. Once you're king of the mountain, what happens to his mind?"

"Is this love, Agent Romanoff?" Loki smirked, under the impression that he had uncovered some big secret.

"Love is for children, I owe him a debt."

She was stone faced, determined. It wasn't all that long ago that that was how Natasha operated, her professional life was a series of balances and debts, everything done for a purpose, nothing done for free. And then Clint Barton happened.

"Tell me," Loki said, taking a seat and listening to her intently. His interest increasing as his defences lowered, and he had no idea.

"Before I worked for SHIELD, I uh, well, I made a name for myself. I had a very specific skill set. I didn't care who I used it for, or on. I got on SHIELD's radar in a bad way. Agent Barton was sent to kill me, he made a different call."

"And what will you do it I vow to spare him. To complete your little trio once more."

"Not let you out."

"Ah, no. But I like this. Your world in the balance and you bargain for one man?" Loki asked, enjoying the agent's apparent desperation.

"Regimes fall every day. I tend not to weep over that, I'm Russian… or was."

"What is it that you want?"

"It's really not that complicated. I've got red in my ledger, I'd like to wipe it out."

"Can you? Can you wipe out that much red? Drakov's daughter? Sao Paulo? The hospital fire? Barton told me everything."

Natasha froze at the mention of past missions. She wasn't proud of the majority of what she had done before SHIELD but she owned it as best she could, even if it meant that she hated herself sometimes.

Lucie tensed, she had never heard of any of those missions which meant only one thing, they were when she was part of the Red Room.

"Your ledger is dripping, it's gushing red and you think that saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything?" By now he was shouting, screaming at the woman stood mere feet away on the other side of the glass.

Loki relished it and without realising, he had played right into Natasha's hands. His anger was getting the best of him, he was out of control. He was enjoying himself too much. "This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer…Pathetic! You lie and kill, in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors. But they are part of you and they will never go away!"

Loki slammed his hand on the glass, making Natasha flinch slightly although she knew that he could not reach her. Still, it was the reaction that Loki expected.

Lucie sat up in her seat, her knife stilling as she watched carefully, waiting for Natasha's next move. Loki was right, he had hit the mark and for a split second she panicked at the thought that Natasha had failed, that she had become the subject of the interrogation rather that the one leading it. "Come on Nat, don't let him get in your head," she whispered to herself.

"I won't touch Barton. Not until I make you watch as he kills your pet project, then I'll make him kill you! Slowly, intimately. In every way he knows you fear. Then I'll wake him just long enough to see his good work and when he screams, I'll split his skull. This is my bargain, you mewling quim!"

Natasha turned around, facing away from the god and towards the security camera that Lucie was watching.

Quiet and distraught, with her head down, she spoke. "You're a monster."

"No, you brought the monster," he laughed.

Natasha turned back, her face returned to it's usual poised expression. She had won.

"So, Banner… that's your play?"

"What?" Loki staggered, realising that he had been duped.

Natasha smirked and tapped her earpiece. "Loki means to unleash the Hulk. Keep Banner in the lab, I'm on my way. Send Thor as well."

"You good?" Lucie asked when they exited into the corridor.

"Let's go."

They walked the rest of the way in silence which was a conversation in itself. The interrogation would go on the backburner, it would be ignored until they were off duty, just like always.

By the time that they reached the lab, tensions were already running high. Tony had turned a screen that showed weapon designs and Steve had slammed down an ancient looking machine gun down on one of the work benches. Bruce looked to Natasha as the SHIELD agents entered the room with Thor in tow.

"Did you know about this?" Bruce accused.

"You wanna think about removing yourself from this environment, doctor?" she advised.

"I was in Calcutta, I was pretty well removed."

"Loki's manipulating you," Natasha tried, approaching him slowly, as if he was a wild animal, and he was, but not yet.

"And you've been doing what exactly?"

"You didn't come here because I bat my eyelashes at you."

"Yes, and I'm not leaving because suddenly you get a little twitchy. I'd like to know why SHIELD is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction."

"Because of him," Fury declared, pointing towards Thor was stunned by the accusation.

"Me?"

"Last year, Earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that levelled a small time. We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly, hilariously, outgunned."

"So you decided you decided to basically get yourself a nuclear deterrent?" Lucie rolled her eyes.

"Remind me how your family fortune was made, Agent."

"Leave her out of this," Tony growled.

"Your work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki to it, and his allies. It was a signal to all the realms that Earth is ready for a higher form of war,"

"A higher form?" Steve asked. The Second World War had been bad enough, a total war of the almost the entire planet, he didn't have it in him to imagine that not only could his darkest nightmares be true but that they could get worse. That even civilisations far more advanced than they were, still didn't have the ability to live in peace.

"See, nothing to do with Stark Industries, you took this step not us!" Lucie argued.

"I'm sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be-" Steve tried.

"Wait, hold on. How is this now about me?" Tony demanded.

"Isn't everything?"

"I thought humans were more evolved than this?"

"Steve, that's enough," Lucie warned, stepping between the soldier and her father. "You need to back off."

"I thought humans were more evolved than this," Thor almost laughed.

"Excuse me, did we come to your planet and blow stuff up?"

"Or what? What are you going to do about it, Lucia?" Tony challenged, focusing on her rather than the other arguments raging around him.

"You think I wanted you to find out like this?"

"Are you boys really that naïve? SHIELD monitors potential threats," Natasha tried, trying to remain loyal to SHIELD, even if she knew she was lying.

"And Captain America's on threat watch?" Bruce challenged.

"We all are," Natasha was right of course, as she so often was. It made sense to monitor everyone who could be a potential threat, especially for those stood in the lab, those yet to be officially assigned.

Everyone was so wrapped up trying to shout above the noise that none of them could see what she saw. The stone in the sceptre was glowing. Glowing like it was waking up.

"Guys," Lucie tried.

"You speak of war yet you court chaos."

"Guys!"

"It's his M.O. isn't it? I mean, what are we, a team? No, no, no, we're a chemical mixture that makes chaos. We're, we're a timebomb," Bruce realised, turning the palest shade of green, just for a split second.

"You need to step away," Fury warned.

"Why shouldn't the guy let off a little steam?" Tony asked, swinging his hand so that it landed casually on Steve's shoulder. As if they had been life long friends rather than two men who irritated the hell out of each other.

Immediately, Steve shrugged away his hand. "You know damn well why. Back off!"

"Oh, I'm starting to want you to make me."

The pair once again came face to face and Lucie had to physically step in the middle of them and push them apart. "Dad, stop it."

"Big man in a suit of armour, take that off, what are you?"

"Genuis, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist."

"I know guys with none of that who are worth ten of you. I've seen the footage. The only thing you fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on the wire and let the other guy crawl over you."

"I think I'd just cut the wire."

"Always a way out… You know, you may not be a threat but you best stop pretending to be a hero."

"A hero? Like you? You're a lab rat, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle."

"Put on the suit, let's go a few rounds," Steve suggested, thinking that with the suit it would maybe be a fair fight.

Thor laughed. "You people are so petty…and tiny."

"Yeah, this is a team."

"Agent Romanoff, would you escort Doctor Banner back to his..." Fury started, looking from Natasha back to Bruce.

"Where? You rented my room," Bruce interrupted, finally

"The cell was just in case…"

"In case you needed to kill me, but you can't. I know! I tried!"

For a moment everyone was silent and a coldness spread throughout the room, demanding far more of their attention than their individual squabbles.

"I got low. I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth and the other guy spit it out. So I moved on. I focused on helping other people. I was good, until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone at risk." Slowly, his anger began to build, everyone on edge, knowing what might happen.

"You want to know my secret Agent Romanoff? You wanna know how I stay so calm?" From anyone else it would have been a perfectly innocent question, but coming from the doctor it was more of a threat; a warning that he wasn't completely in control.

Immediately, Fury, Natasha and Lucie had their hands on their guns, an automatic reaction but a wise one.

"Doctor Banner, put down the sceptre," Steve asked carefully.

Bruce looked down at his hand, unaware that he was indeed holding the sceptre.

The tension was broken by the computer in the corner that beeped, signalling that the Tesseract had been found. There was work to bed done.

"Sorry, kids. You don't get to see my little party trick after all," Bruce said, his joke not doing much to improve the mood, not even his own.

"I can get there faster," Tony said.

"You're not going alone!" Steve argued.

"You gonna stop me?"

"Put on the suit. Let's find out."

"I'm not afraid to hit an old man."

"Put on the suit!"

"You know what? Go for it. Fill your boots! Neither one of you best coming running to me!" Lucie declared, stepping away from the pair and towards Natasha who was carefully watching Bruce.

"Oh, my God!"

It wasn't enough warning, the explosion that came through the centre of the laboratory floor; blasting Bruce and Natasha through the window and into the equipment room below while everyone else was flung towards the walls, Lucie smashing the back of her head against one of the metal shelves that lined the room.

"What the hell was that?" Lucie demanded, picking herself up off the floor and trying to ignore the static that was beginning to fill her head, determined that she could fight it off.

"Put on the suit!" Steve repeated, this time having a far different meaning.

"Yep," Tony agreed. "Luce?!" he shouted, scrambling towards her.

"I'm good, go," she replied, ushering him away. "Steve, go. I'm fine."

"Hill?!" Fury shouted, cupping his ribs with his hand and securing his earpiece.

"You okay?" He took her face in his hands and held it tightly as he checked her over for any damage, immediately aging 20 years as he did so; the panic that he had been supressing with sarcasm and bravado.

"I'm fine Dad, go," Lucie said, pushing his hands away and making sure all her weaponry was where it was meant to be.

"Engine three is down," Agent Hill said over comms.

"Stark! You copy that?!" Fury asked.

"I'm on it!" Tony replied, reluctantly heading for the door.

"Sir?" Lucie asked, looking for orders.

"Coulson, initiate official lock down in the detention section then get to the armoury. James will meet you there."

"Yes, sir," Lucie grunted, trying not to worry as she felt the back of her neck become damp and sticky with blood.

**It's been a mad couple of days. I had my interview to start my teacher training but because of Covid it has to happen online which throws up a whole host of problems. They then decided after all the interviews that they weren't taking any candidates for the academic year which throws not only a spanner but the whole toolbox in the works. **


	18. Battlestations

**Welcome to chapter 17! Thank you for sticking with me this long! Enjoy!**

**I don't own anything but Lucia. **

Chapter Seventeen- Battlestations.

The helecarrier was transitioning to battle stations, agents taking more notice of what and who was around them. All agents, no matter what department they worked for, had to pass a basic level of training at the academy, it was only after that that agents went into their speciality. Everyone from scientists to admin staff had the skills to be able to defend themselves against an attack. Still, there weren't as many combat specialists onboard as Lucie would have liked. Basic combat training wouldn't get them very far against the army of a Norse god.

The Andraste was familiar to her, she had walked the corridors many times, even helped design parts, but still, she checked every corner with her side arm raised with a curved knife carefully resting against her wrist in case of any hand to hand combat. A handgun was not her weapon of choice, but rather one of necessity, it drew too much attention. The knife she carried wasn't intentional, she hadn't even considered that Clint had been the one that gifted it to her. A graduation present for finishing her first stint undercover he had said. It wasn't designed for throwing, the blade too thin, the handle too elaborate and heavy. She could throw it with a basic level of accuracy, nothing near degree that Clint had drilled into her, her aim was almost as good as his. Almost. In another time, Clint would have been the first person she would have gone to, instead she was on the lookout for mercenaries that no doubt had the benefit of Clint's experience.

"Coulson, what's your ETA?" she whispered, carefully following stairs down to the base level of the helecarrier. She was careful not to let her footsteps thud against the metal steps for fear of giving away her position.

"Two minutes."

She replied with "copy" and made her way down another level.

Lucie was surrounded by the inner workings of the Andraste, pipes that transported water and gas to various places around the helecarrier but the vast majority was wires and cabling supplying everything from the electricity to the internet, some even allowed for old school methods of communication like Morse code.

"Lucia? You okay?" Lucie frowned slightly, the voice of her father drawing her focus away from the task at hand.

"Working," was all she said and it must have satisfied Tony's curiosity because he didn't speak to her again.

"Stark, I'm here!" Steve said over her comms.

She could only assume that they were at engine three, repairing what damage they could to prevent the Andraste from dropping out of the sky.

"Good. Let's see what we got," Tony replied.

Lucie ran her finger behind her ear from top to bottom, turning the volume down on her ear piece enough that she concentrate and quickly pulled a knife from by her thigh. Which particular knife had been a careful decision since she carried a variety. The majority were meant to be thrown but they all served a slightly different purpose. A curved blade resting carefully between her thumb and pointer finger to then cover her knuckles of her left hand. It was designed more for hand to hand combat, an ancient style blade that would have looked at home in the palace of a Sultan. The knife in her right hand couldn't have been more different, it was sleek, matte black and perfectly balanced. There was no fancy grip or decoration of any kind, the only thing that mattered was that it was sharp. The cool metal feeling comfortable against her skin. Clint wouldn't be alone and she only had so many bullets. Having a knife in both hands made things easier.

By the time she was on sub level three, she was intercepted by half a dozen soldiers dressed in SHIELD tactical uniforms that were no doubt on their way to the detention centre. After that, she didn't hear any of the others on comms, instead she was fighting for her life.

The first soldier made a grab for her by the throat and knocked her momentarily off her feet. He was easily 150 pounds bigger than she was but he hit the ground quickly when she used her curved blade to slice through strap on his bullet proof vest and through to skin underneath. It came away far easier than she anticipated and she had been through her fair share of gear to know what was cheap. The soldier was the first to end up face to the ground when Lucie slammed the heavy base of her knife against the sweet spot behind his ear with enough force to make him lose consciousness. Cheap gear and a clumsy attack plan. These men weren't professionals. They were bystanders caught in Loki's under tow.

She slowed herself, determined to limit the damage she did rather than just do anything to complete the mission. She had signed up for this, they hadn't.

Learning from their comrade's mistake, four rushed her at once and for a split second they were winning, their brute strength giving them the upper hand. Still, she was far more skilled than they were. One grabbed her by the wrist and slammed her side arm from her hand with the base if his hand and then attempting to push it up so that she was immobilised. He was using enough pressure to easily snap her wrist but she didn't give in. She let her knife go and the sharp point immediately pricked against the mercenary's skin, not enough to injure but enough to shock him enough to get her hand free and to be able to use her knife properly.

It would be a lie to say that she wasn't enjoying herself, even as the other men tried to wrestle her to the ground and use her own weapons against her. Instinct took over and rather than panicking or being overcome with dear, she was calm. A new form of clarity formed as Lucie transitioned into Lucifer.

With one hand free, she launched a knife at the soldier furthest from her, hitting him just above the knee, it wouldn't cause any life limiting damage but it would subdue him for long enough to get free from the three remaining threats.

The fourth soldier was dispatched quickly with a swift kick to the forehead that sent him to the ground like a sack of potatoes. He crumbled at her feet and Lucie added it to her tally. The other two would have been on the floor in seconds if a voice didn't override her ear piece, drawing away her concentration.

"It's Barton. He took out our systems. He's heading for the detention level. Does anybody copy?"

She was about to reply when someone beat her to it.

"This is Agent Romanoff. I copy." Her voice was tight and controlled.

Lucie held herself completely still for a moment, allowing one of them to land a punch. He hit her square in the abdomen and she winced for a second, allowing herself to fold at the waist as if she had suddenly become submissive to their attack. She hadn't so much as worked up a sweat but when fighting a girl apparently then men holding her weren't expecting much.

They slackened their grip just enough for her to be able to duck and slam the men into each other, butting heads and knocking themselves unconscious. It was comical, she hadn't had a takedown that simple in years. Under normal circumstances she would have laughed and felt proud of herself, instead she felt guilty, these were just ordinary men.

"Romanoff, this is James. On my way."

With Loki's puppets taken care of, Lucie sprinted the rest of the way to the detention centre. The main door was still secure when she arrived so she quickly placed her hand on the scanner and punched in her code.

There was an audible sigh of relief when Lucie saw that Loki was still in his cell and she quickly looked around for Natasha or Coulson. There was nobody except the agent and the god. The latter still seemed to be revelling in the carnage that he had caused.

"You must be Agent James," he smirked with more confidence than a man in his position should have.

She ran to the computer panel and scanned the latest readings as well as the screen that showed the security cameras outside the room.

"You must be the dick who took my friend hostage," she countered.

"Tell me, has your father discovered your true identity yet? Does he know that Daddy's little girl is a cold blooded killer."

His game was obvious, she had seen him try and play with Natasha as if she was a doll that would easily bend to his will. Still, he knew that Lucie and Natasha were not the same. He had no doubt been told exactly how to push Lucie's buttons, exactly how to entice a reaction and to fan the sparks into uncontrollable rage.

"At least my dad stuck around."

It was the lowest of low blows but it was the only comeback she had.

"How brave you are when there are bars between us," Loki taunted, clearly she had struck a nerve.

"Believe it or not, I'm the nice one."

"My darling, there is no such thing as a nice assassin."

"Who says that I'm an assassin?" she asked, not looking up from the computer.

"Agent Barton told me all about your time in Ashgabat," he tried, this time much softer, as if sympathetic.

Lucie had no doubt that Loki knew all about it, he would have used Clint completely to his advantage, gathering as much information on her as he had done Natasha. He wanted to break them apart but she was damn sure that he wasn't going to.

She tried to ignore him, pretending that he hadn't spoken and focusing on her work.

"Coulson, Romanoff, what's your ETA?" she asked, tapping here ear piece only to instead poke the inside of her ear.

"A pity, he saw such promise in you," whispered a voice instead, far too close for liking.

Lucie flinched, turning quickly to back up against the console and pulling a knife from her belt. It would be a lie to say that she wasn't scared.

"Now, now Agent, let us be friends. We want the same thing; you want Agent Barton back and I want to release him to you. All I ask is one small favour."

He edged closer to her until they were almost touching and even though she had her knife in her hand, she didn't use it. Instead, she allowed the god to pluck it from her hand, frozen as he examined it. He turned the blade back and forth, admiring the decoration that had been etched into the blade, including her initials. L.A.M.S.

"Of all the weapons at your disposal, you choose this piece of art. My, my, Agent Stark."

Lucie had been on the receiving end of a man flirting with her more than once and every single time she used it to her advantage, however, she was out of her depth. This wasn't something her training covered.

"You won't stop me. The Chitauri will claim this world in my name and I will rule supreme. Stand at my side and I will let Agent Barton go."

"An exchange?" Lucie asked, finally finding her voice.

Loki smiled, running the point of her knife along her jaw, just enough that she could feel it but not enough to leave a mark on her skin, an exercise of incredible gentleness given how sharp the blade was.

"Think on it."

She didn't know when it happened but there was suddenly pressure against her wrist. It was a move she had used herself dozens of times and now the tables have turned. She pulled and against the handcuffs and wasn't surprised that she was secured to the control panel.

"No!"

"Kindly stay where you are for now Agent Stark."

The main door opened, bringing Thor into view. He looked at the open door but instead of seeing Lucie, he only saw Loki stood in front of his open cell. Without thinking, he rushed forward as if to tackle his brother back into captivity.

"Thor, stop!" Lucie shouted but it fell on deaf ears, she was part of the illusion that Loki had built, he couldn't see her until it was too late.

Thor fell to his knees in the cell as the door closed behind him, momentarily confused by the lack of impact. It was then he saw Lucie handcuffed to the computer.

"Are you ever not going to fall for that?"

Thor smashed his hammer against the glass, cracking the glass but not smashing it enough to break through. The cell shook, threatening to fall through the sky. The Hulk fail safe that apparently useless.

"The humans think us immortal, should we test that?" Loki taunted, moving towards the computer that Lucie was restrained to.

Coulson appeared as if from nowhere carrying a prototype that Lucie had seen only in plans. It was heavy and clumsy, yet to be refined into something that could be used by field agents. In an attempt to buy him so more time, Lucie waited until Loki was close enough and then snapped her leg straight with as much force as she could, expecting to knock the god completely off his feet so that so that he was lying on the floor beside her; instead, her foot went right through him. Another trick.

"You like this?" Coulson asked. "We started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer. Even I don't know what it does. Wanna find out?" Coulson asked, powering up the weapon so that an orange glow surrounded the barrel.

"Coulson, behind you!" Lucie warned a double of Loki appeared behind the agent.

He didn't have time to react. It was already too late as the real Loki shoved a knife through his body with enough force that Lucie was able to see that it was her knife.

"No!" Thor and Lucie screamed in unison, unable to do anything but watch as Agent Coulson crumbled to the floor.

Loki sauntered towards her and when Lucie made an attempt to attack him, he kicked her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her completely and breaking a couple of ribs in the process. She winced, cradling her aching ribs with her free hand as if the pressure would make the pain go away. It bought enough for Loki to push the button that released the cell and sent it plummeting towards the ground.

"The offer still stands Agent Stark," he whispered, bending down so that he was closer.

Coulson had managed to pull himself to the side of the room, despite his pain he pulled himself into a sitting position, the prototype rested on his lap.

"You're going to lose," Coulson said as blood slowly started to spill from the corner of his mouth.

"Am I?" Loki smirked.

"It's in your nature."

"Your heroes are scattered. Your floating fortress falls from the sky. Where is my disadvantage?" he was beyond smug, blinded by his victory and unable to see past his own ego to be able to see the massive flaw right in front of his face.

"You lack conviction."

"I don't think I-." Anything Loki was planning to say was irrelevant as Coulson blasted him

"So that's what it does," Coulson mused, happy to have a small amount of his curiosity satisfied.

"Coulson, you need to radio for medical. Loki took my comms," Lucie pleaded.

Coulson just smiled, each breath now a labour.

"It's too late."

"I can't get to you. You need to stay awake."

"It's okay Lucie."

"You're not dying on me. You're not supposed to die on us, Phil, that wasn't the deal."

"Tell Barton and Romanoff. You were all…a pain in the ass but you were mine and…I'm proud of you all."

It was then that Fury ran into the room, first seeing that the cell wasn't there and second seeing Coulson propped up against the wall. His usual pristine white shirt sodden with blood.

"Sorry, boss. They got rabbited," Coulson half smiled, ever the professional.

"Just stay awake. Eyes on me!" Fury ordered.

"I'm clocked out here," he contradicted. He knew what was coming and he had accepted it, relieved that he no longer felt any pain.

"Not an option."

"It's okay boss. This was never going to work… if they didn't have something…to…" Coulson's eyes dimmed and he sighed his last breath just as the medical team arrived. It was too late. He was already gone.

Still, Lucie wasn't prepared for the Director's broadcast.

"Agent Coulson is down."

**It broke my heart when Coulson died in the movie. **

**So Loki is free and Thor and Bruce are in the wind, Clint's back where he is supposed to be and we have the calm before the storm. Soon it's the Battle of New York where there will be a couple of references to Endgame. **


	19. Disappointments

**Once again, I don't own Marvel, I only own Lucie.**

Chapter Eighteen- Disappointments.

Clint was the first one on the roof; he was always the first one on the roof. As his codename suggested, he liked being high up. As an archer he had the ability to see things from afar, he needed the perspective for his best judgement. So whenever it was quiet and they didn't have any orders; or they were just generally waiting around, Rosetta team would find our way up to the roof of SHIELD HQ and just stare out at New York. It was a little on the nose, to put a super secret spy organisation about thirty seconds away from Times Square but for a little while it was home.

In the early hours of one morning, after somehow all arriving back from their respective missions at the same time; Clint, Natasha and Lucie sat on the roof in complete silence. Clint had one leg dangling in mid air while he perched on the edge, as if he weren't a strong gush of wind away from death. Lucie lay flat on her back with her jacket bunched up under her head, staring up at the cloud flooded sky. She didn't trust herself to have the energy to stay sat up for any prolonged period of time while her feet rested on Natasha's thigh. Natasha was by far in the best shape out of the three and Lucie envied her for it. She also envied the fact that Natasha got to play eye candy come bodyguard while she had took a swim in the swamp.

"I don't think I can drive," Lucie admitted. She was sure she could smell the Bayou lingering on her skin from her dip in the water, but she wasn't sure if it was just because she had swallowed so much of it. Neither of her teammates had commented.

"Get an uber," Clint suggested, a tinge of outrage to his voice, as if this should have been her first thought.

"My cell is in the office."

"I'll take you, so long as I can sleep in your guest room," Natasha offered, sounding far more rested than either of her colleagues.

"Sold to the red headed Russian!" Lucie hollered with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, which wasn't much. It was more than enough effort to even come up with the joke.

"I thought you were giving me a ride?" Clint complained. He wasn't in the city enough to warrant an apartment, so he tended to crash in Lucie's guest room, they'd have breakfast and then he'd head home.

"You can sleep on the couch," Lucie yawned, stretching her arms above her head.

"I hate that couch."

"You picked the couch out!"

They bickered over nothing for a while until the fire escape door swung open and then bounced against the brick that prevented them from being locked out.

Coulson stood over them, staring at the trio like naughty school children who had been caught bunking off. It was a look that they knew. Rosetta was known for taking the risky missions and those were the ones that rarely went to plan.

"Do you realise how much trouble you're in?" he demanded.

Instantly they looked between themselves, trying to figure out who was the most likely to be in the most trouble. Lucie looked to Clint since he had had to salvage his mission. Nat looked towards Clint and Clint wasn't brave enough to make his guess obvious.

"Which one of us?" Natasha asked.

"All three of you."

"I can explain…" they all tried.

"Barton?"

"I couldn't change the location without making the target suspicious or blowing my cover." It was a fair explanation but, unfortunately for Clint, that wasn't what Coulson was waiting for him to confess to.

"The bird calls on my answer machine last week?"

"Yeah, I got nothing."

"Romanoff?"

"It was in the way and it was either the witness or the aircraft."

"A $1 billion aircraft Romanoff." A vein threatened to pop on Coulson's forehead at the sheer amount of money that her mission had chalked up to collateral damage.

"He was a really good witness?" she offered.

"James?"

"I mixed up North and South Korea. I forgot which one was the dictator with the bad haircut."

"I thought you were in Louisiana?" Clint said, he could have sworn that Lucie had been stateside for the past month.

"Black market genetics lab hidden in the Bayou, complete with trafficking ring," she explained. It had been more than she bargained for, the victims were a part of the enterprise nobody had been expecting, not until Lucie had stumbled on the animal cages containing humans.

"If it were anyone else then you would be up for review."

The three remained silent, not wanting to push their luck, more out of respect to Coulson than being afraid of the consequences.

"It's a good job that you managed to get out relatively clean with covers intact and complete the mission objectives."

"Does that mean that we're off the hook?" Lucie hoped, propping herself up on her elbows and smiling innocently over at their handler. He was not paid enough to deal with the antics of Rosetta at that time of the morning.

"Go home." That was as close as it got to him saying yes.

Steve and Tony were already sat around the briefing table, with a considerate around of space between them, by the time Lucie arrived. They didn't so much as look at each other, never mind speak and the bridge was quieter than Lucie had ever seen. Fitting really.

She had changed into another set of gear, carrying the heavy looking jacket in her hand rather than wearing it. There was already a nasty bruise forming on her shoulder her ribs were wrapped in such a way that it was noticeable underneath her form fitting tank top. Tony sighed when he saw her, rising from his seat and pulling her in for a hug, trying not to hurt her more than she already was.

"You okay kid?" he asked, trying to ignore the smell of disinfectant that clung to her hair that now hung in a lazy ponytail.

"Yeah. You?" Lucie pulled away and checked him over for damage.

"Suit did it's job. I'm fine."

Lucie smiled and took one of the seats between her father and Steve.

"Steve, you alright?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

Lucie's stomach sunk. Ma'am. Not Luce, or even Lucie, ma'am. She lowered her head and didn't press it any further, she didn't have the energy.

When Fury stood by the table, she sat up straighter, an old habit that she couldn't quite shake from her academy days.

"These were in Phil Coulson's jacket. I guess he never did get you to sign them." Fury threw a handful of bloodied cards onto the glass table. The trading cards that Coulson had been collecting as long as Lucie had known him.

Fury followed up the cards with something wrapped in fabric, she didn't need to open it to know what it was. He didn't say anything this time, he only stared at Lucie until she forced herself to take hold of the bundle and slowly unwrap it.

"We're dead in the air up here. Our communications, location of the cube, Banner, Thor. I got nothing for you. Lost my one good eye." He let the silence lay for a moment, using it to his advantage.

"Yes, we were going to build an arsenal with the Tesseract. I never put all my chips on that number though, because I was playing something much riskier. There was an idea, Stark knows this, called The Avengers Initiative. The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people, see if they could become something more. See if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight the battles that we never could. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea, in heroes."

Lucie sat quietly, unable to concentrate on anything but her building rage. She knew Fury, she knew that he was spinning things to his advantage. Everything had been designed to send a message, even exploiting Coulson's death to further his own ideas. Lucie couldn't stand it. She pushed her chair away from the table with a screech as it scuffed along the floor, for a moment she stood with her palms flat against the table. She took the knife, scrubbed clean of Coulson's blood, flipped it once so that the blade was between her thumb and pointer finger and then fired it into the chair that Fury was leaning against, barely a centimetre away from his thumb.

Fury didn't flinch, not even when she took her SHIELD ID from her back pocket and slammed it onto the glass table. He had expected an emotional reaction from her, another layer to his manipulation.

"I quit," she spat. "Put a kill order out on me and see what happens."

Her threat sat heavy in the air, even when she left the room.

Tony sat for a few more seconds, replaying what she had said in his mind. _Put a kill order out on me and see what happens. _She wasn't afraid, she was almost casual in the way she had phrased it. No, not casual, she was goading him. It had been a shock to find out that Lucia was a SHIELD agent but he hadn't thought ahead so far as to consider what that actually meant. He followed her.

The handcuffs were still in place from where she had been restrained to the console. The detention centre empty and useless without it's only cell. Still, she had found herself there by accident, let her feet take her where ever they needed to go, so long as it was away from Fury.

"He was a good guy," Tony said, disturbing her from her own thoughts.

Lucie scoffed, shaking her head. "You didn't know him, not really."

"I know he meant a lot to you."

"I mean what I said, about resigning. I'll even take that job at S.I. you wanted me to take."

Neither spoke for a moment, allowing time for Steve to catch up with them. His time with Coulson had been limited but he had heard stories from Lucie and for him that was enough.

"Was he married?" he asked.

"No. There was a cellist, I think," Tony supplied, trying to pull more information from his memory.

"Audrey. The rest of Rosetta will tell her. She should hear it from a friendly face."

At the mention of Rosetta her mind jarred back into gear, dragging her partially out of her emotional haze. She hadn't heard from Natasha since Loki's escape, she had no idea what the situation was on Clint or even if they knew about Coulson.

"I'm going to find Nat, tell her what happened." She ignored Steve's look of concern, not wanting to add another layer of disappointment onto the already unbearable load. Instead, she headed back for the door and to the medical deck.

"He seemed like a good man," Steve offered.

"He was an idiot."

"For believing?"

"For taking on Loki alone."

"You don't know. He wasn't alone. Lucie was there."

Tony shook his head. He had heard very little detail about Loki's escape. Her reaction seemed to make more sense even though he hadn't quite figured out the relevance of the knife Fury had thrown down on the table. It made sense why she was so angry, it went much further than being upset that a colleague had died, she was furious with herself. She had been there and she hadn't been able to save him.

"Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?" Steve asked.

"We are not soldiers!" Tony spat, offended by the title. "I am not marching to Fury's fife."

"Neither am I! He's got the same blood on his hands as Loki does. Right now we've got to put that aside and get this done. Now Loki needs a power source, if we can put together a list."

Tony had found his gaze fixed on the spot of wall that was soaked with blood. "He made it personal," he almost whispered, yet still loud enough for Steve to hear.

"That's not the point."

"That _is _the point. That's Loki's point. He hit us where we live. Why?"

"To tear us apart," Steve realised. It made perfect sense, why Loki had used Clint and tried to go after Natasha in the holding cell and then later, Lucie.

"He had to conquer his greed, but he knows he has to take us out to win right? That's what he wants. He wants to beat us and he wants to be seen doing it. He wants an audience." At this point, Tony was just verbalising his thought process, somehow, speaking it aloud seemed to make it more coherent.

"Right, I caught his act at Stuttgart."

"Yeah. That's just the preview, this is opening night. Loki's a full tilt diva. He wants flowers, he wants parades, he wants a monument built in the skies with his name plastered…" the penny dropped. "Son of a bitch."

Steve waited for a beat for his thoughts to catch up with Tony's. Then it hit him. Stark Tower.

"You go and get Romanoff. I'll meet you in the hanger."

Initially it was like withdrawal and he was convinced that he would die if didn't follow orders. Natasha sat by his bedside, offering words of support and encouragement. They had both suffered after time in the field but this was a new low even for them.

When she entered, Lucie offered Natasha her hand, something which the spy gratefully took even if she didn't say a word; lending each other whatever strength they had. The worst was over by the time she got there, Clint neck deep in blame rather than Loki's control still painfully lingering in his mind.

"Did he hurt you?" Clint asked both women. An attack on SHIELD was one thing, but an attack on them was another level entirely. The thought that Loki could have asked him to kill either of them was stomach churning. The fact that he would have done it without a second thought made him hate himself.

Natasha shook her head and Lucie tried to do the same. She had put her jacket on before she came to see them, the worst of the damage was hidden from sight. Apparently not Natasha. The red head pulled Lucie to her feet and then pulled her tank top up high enough to reveal the bandaging.

"Loki did this?" Clint asked, he stared at his hands, his disappointment turning to rage.

"In the detention centre."

The interrogation was interrupted when the door opened and there stood Captain America in full uniform. Lucie pulled down her top and avoided eye contact.

"Time to go," he said.

"Go where?" Natasha asked, not used to being out of the loop.

"Tell you on the way. Can you fly one of those jets?"

Clint got to his feet, standing beside Lucie and trying to ignore the headache that was threatening to shatter his skull. "I can," he said.

Steve looked from Natasha to Lucie, trusting both their judgements when they nodded. Clint's ability as a pilot was never the question, Steve needed confirmation on which side of the fight Clint was on.

"You got a suit?"

"Yeah."

"Then suit up."

**Yey we have Clint back, also a little flashback from when Coulson was Rosetta's handler, those kind of scenes will be flashing up every now and again.**


	20. The Beginning

**Welcome to New York!**

Chapter Nineteen- The Beginning.

Nobody stood in their way, not a single agent was brave enough to get un their way. Steve took the lead, agents moving out of the way as soon as they saw the uniform. The uniforms of Rosetta were common place, similar to the SHIELD standard issue, but there was no mistaking the red, white and blue or the star that emblazoned Captain America's chest.

The heavy thud of footsteps on the walkway alerted the engineer to agents trying to board. It wasn't for the first time that week either, he was in charge of SHIELD's latest aircraft, one of only three in the world. Agents had been filing in and out all week, desperate to get a look inside, like kids in a candy store. Of course that had all gone sideways when the Andraste went to battle stations; still he stayed at his post.

"Hey, you guys aren't authorised to be in here," the engineer said without really looking. He turned and then scrambled from his seat and immediately regretting his words once he saw who it was that had boarded.

"Son, don't," Rogers said with an exasperated look.

As a man that was technically still in his early twenties, the Captain shouldn't have been able to carry that much authority in two words, but somehow he did. Nobody dared question the actions of Captain America, the living embodiment of righteousness. Maybe it was the fact that he was from a different era, it was something that he would usually speak to Lucie about but he wasn't quite ready to ask for her help.

Clint stepped by everyone, settling himself in the pilot's seat and completing the usual pre-flight checks. Flicking switches and checking dials and screens. It wasn't difficult to find his way around, SHIELD tended to use the same contractors to build their equipment and when you had been in SHIELD for as long as he was, it was easy to recognise the different styles.

Natasha and Lucie strapped themselves into their seats like they had done dozens of times before, neither one of them speaking as they tightened the straps and waited patiently to take off. There was nothing more they could do while they sat on the tarmac. It had been six months since their last mission together; a nine day placement in Madrid that had left them with a generous sun tan and a couple of bruises and scrapes for souvenirs. Still, they fell back into the familiar routine of operating on next to no information.

Lucie toed a heavy duffle bag under her seat and to secured it with her feet, offering only a wink to the man in charge of the aircraft they were commandeering.

When Steve had asked her what was inside the bag, it was Natasha who answered. "Toys," she had said with the kind of seriousness that put Steve on edge. Whatever it was that Lucie had went to retrieve, she hadn't had time to change into her gear.

"Promise we'll bring it back in one piece," it was an empty promise but at the very least it would make him feel better.

Reluctantly, the engineer who had been working in the cockpit, stepped away and into the aircraft hanger. There was no promise of dinner or putting in a good word to his boss, they weren't necessary. Rosetta's reputation proceeded itself and with Captain America on board, he wasn't brave enough to contradict them.

Steve followed their lead, settling in his seat and buckling the harness in place. It was another practice that was familiar to him and also completely alien. As strange and unexpected as the whole Loki situation had been, he was beginning to feel settled in the ability to return to active duty and for the first time he felt like he was doing what he was supposed to. If he concentrated, he could have made himself believe that they were on a military transport like during the war, the only difference was the cockpit and the women sat in front of him.

"We're clear," Clint announced.

Immediately, both Natasha and Lucie set to work. They unbuckled their harnesses in unison and pulled out the bag that Lucie had pushed under the seat. They pawed through the bag and pulled out far more weaponry than Steve had expected. Lucie pulled out several belts lined with more knives and dumped them on her seat and carried on digging through the bag until she found what she was looking for, her gear neatly rolled for easy storage.

"If you don't want to see anything, then I suggest you avert your eyes," Lucie warned, kicking her sneakers towards the back of the quinjet and loosening her belt on her cargo pants.

Steve turned away, awkwardly trying to find somewhere to look in the small aircraft where Lucie wasn't in his eyeline. He would have looked away even if she hadn't asked but he appreciated the warning.

Being in her gear felt like a second skin and it was easy to slip back into being a professional. With each weapon she donned, she felt more and more prepared. There was none of the usual jokes or banter between Rosetta, the stakes too high for them to joke, the wounds too recent.

With her Widow Bites secured to her wrists, handguns in their holsters and a handful of tricks up her sleeves, Natasha was ready to go. Without a break in her movements she took two ear buds from the small box she rested on her seat and handed one to Steve, demonstrating on herself how to get the best fit before setting to work fitting Lucie's who was busy lacing up her knee high boots, securing a couple of knives in the laces as she tied.

"Encrypting channel three, backup channel twelve," Natasha said, tapping away at the screen.

"Channel three's good," both Clint and Lucie replied monotonously.

Watching them prepare was slightly hypnotic and Steve and couldn't help but wonder if this was how all their missions started. Of all the stories Lucie had told him since he came out of the ice, the other two agents featured the most. The Black Widow and Hawkeye. They sounded like superheroes sometimes, more than human. He would be lying if he said that he didn't feel slightly intimidated by Rosetta.

Steve had given up counting how many weapons they had when Lucie's count reached thirty. A belt around her waist, holsters strapped to both thighs with both handguns and knives, another belt across her shoulders like a deadly sash, once again adorned with blades of various shapes and sizes. Her arms, as far as he could see, were void of weapons but he didn't like to assume. She was more warrior than spy and in that moment he understand how she had become a member of such a prestigious team when she had only just entered her twenties. She was terrifying.

"Dad, you at the tower yet?" Lucie asked, her cell to her ear.

"You better not be on your way here Luce," he warned.

"Just answer the damn question."

"Go home," he ordered, ending the call and receiving nothing short of a growl from his daughter.

Lucie huffed, throwing her the phone across the room where it bounced against one of the walls and then along the ground. She moved to stand beside Clint just as the New York skyline was coming into view.

"Open a channel to Stark Tower," she asked, respectfully not interfering with the controls but still slamming her hands against the empty chair to his left.

She waited patiently for the call to connect via JARVIS.

"JARVIS, open a channel between Dad and all Avenger comms. Now." She ended the call abruptly and then pulled a black bandana over her mouth and nose.

Steve stepped towards Natasha, starting to become concerned with Lucie's building frustration, even if it didn't seem to bother Natasha.

"Is she okay?" he asked.

"She'll be fine." Just her tone of voice told Steve all he needed to know; the subject was not open for discussion.

The suit was struggling to keep up with the demands, glitching left, right and centre from all the damage that had been inflicted on it. Tony tried not to let it get to him, so long as he managed to arrive at the Tower in one piece and trade it in for a newer suit then it didn't matter.

The thrusters jarred and spluttered once Stark Tower came into view, as if sensing that they were nearly home.

"Sir, I've turned off the arc reactor but the device is already self sustaining," JARVIS warned.

"Shut it down, Doctor Selvig."

"It's too late. She can't stop now. She wants to show us something, a new universe!" his giddy optimism did nothing but set off warning bells. Whereas Agent Barton had been tactical and deadly, Selvig was idealistic, he actually seemed excited about Loki's plan.

Tony tried not to hold it against him, understanding that he was still under Loki's control. Deciding that it would be useless to argue with the man, he held up both hands and send out a blast of energy from the suit that threatened to knock him out of the sky.

"The barrier is pure energy. It's unbreachable." As usual, JARVIS filled in the blanks, it wasn't necessary but Tony never felt the need to reprogram the part of JARVIS that reminded him of high school level physics whenever he did something foolish.

"I got that. Plan B," Tony said, looking down to see Loki stood casually on the walkway below.

"Sir, the Mark VII is not ready to be deployed."

"Then skip the spinning rims, we're on the clock," Tony argued, setting himself down with a heavy, metallic thud.

Machinery sprung into action, rotating to extract Tony from his damaged armour as he walked.

"Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity," Loki suggested with a sarcastic smile.

"Actually, I'm planning to threaten you."

"Should have left your armour on for that."

"Yeah. It's seen a bit of mileage and you've got the glow stick of destiny. Would you like a drink."

"Stalling me won't change anything." Loki smiled, as though he couldn't imagine the audacity of the human who had dared believe that he was a worthy opponent for a god.

"No, no, no. Threatening. No drink, you sure, I'm having one," Tony corrected. He poured himself a drink, a decanter of scotch that he kept around for special occasions.

Just out of sight were two bracelets that easily could have been mistaken for watches. It had been part of the new specs for the Mark VII, a way around having to carry the clunky suit everywhere with him in a briefcase or something similar.

"The Chitauri are coming. Nothing will change that," Loki declared, surveying the New York skyline as if imagining what it would be after his glorious victory. "What have I to fear?" he asked.

"The Avengers," he said it so casually that it confused the god in front of him. Tony Stark was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Still, he poured himself a drink, stalling for time. "It's what we call ourselves. We're sort of like a team. Earth's mightiest heroes type of thing."

Loki smirked at the threat, thinking it more pathetic than anything else. "Yes, I've met them."

"Yeah, it takes us a while to get any traction, I'll give you that. But let's do a head count here. Your brother, the demigod. A super soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend. A man with breath-taking anger management issues. A couple of master assassins and you, big fella, managed to piss off every single one of them."

"That was the plan."

"Not a great plan."

"Tell me, in your headcount as you call it, did you include the young Agent Stark?"

Tony froze, trying not to let the mention of her spark a reaction. By all accounts, something had gone on in the detention centre, he just didn't know what and Lucie wasn't likely tell him any time soon. He hoped not, he wanted her as far away from it all as humanly possible.

"I imagine that you know very little of your daughter's career but let me assure you, it has been quite extensive. How does it feel to know that you raised a killer?"

"Don't believe that we won't come for you." For once, Tony kept his mouth shut. Everything in him wanted to destroy the man in front of him but instead, he ignored the jibe and tried to keep to the task at hand.

"I have an army."

"We have a Hulk."

"And here I thought the beast had wandered off."

"You're missing the point. There's no throne There's no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it's too much for us but its all on you. Because if we can't protect the Earth then you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

"How will your friends have time for me, when they are so busy fighting you."With a menacing look in his eyes, he lowered the sceptre so that the sharp point was resting over Tony's heart. The metal clinked against the arc reactor and the god waited. Nothing happened."It should work."

Tony didn't know what he had been expecting, being brainwashed by Loki wasn't something that he had considered. He had heard that Barton was free of the mind control so at least he knew that it wouldn't last forever. Who knows that Loki could have made him do.

"Well, performance issues, it's not uncommon. One out of five-"

In one fluid movement, Loki swung up to take Tony by the throat and threw him across the room like a ragdoll.

"JARVIS, any time now," Tony winced as he lay on the marble floor of his penthouse. It had seemed like a good idea at the time but he was starting to think that a sprung floor would be a better idea if he was going to be thrown around as if he was nothing. He pushed himself up so that he was almost standing with a grunt only to have Loki's hand at his throat again.

"You will all fall before me."

"Deploy!" Tony called as Loki lifted him once again, this time launching him through the glass and into freefall.

From behind Loki, a panel opened and out flew a scarlet pod fuelled by a rocket that knocked Loki to the ground, crashing through the glass in search of a signal to attach itself to. Lasers scanned, trying to confirm a connection to the Colantotte bracelets that Tony had slipped on earlier while trying to stall Loki.

Panic started to roll over Tony as he desperately tried to trust his own creation, keeping as still as he could. The Mark VII wasn't ready but he hoped that it would be close enough that it would stop him crashing into the New York sidewalk. He sighed with a grateful smile as he felt the Iron Man armour begin to wind its way around his body, the helmet snapping into place mere feet from the ground.

People on the ground watched in horror, it was too close for them to call and there was a collective gasp of relief when the thrusters kicked in and once again Iron Man shot for the skies, or rather, to his own penthouse. The thrusters suspended him gracefully in mid-air, making the pose look some what elegant.

"And there's one other person you pissed off. His name was Phil."

Loki raised his sceptre to fire at the metal man, beyond furious that he had survived. Instead, Tony raised his hands and fired pure energy at the god, knocking his feet from under him and sending across the room with a painful looking twist.

**There we go. We're in New York and Loki is still trying to make things personal so why not push the buttons of the most emotionally unstable person on the team?**

**Let me know what you think! **


	21. Dropping In

**I can't believe we're at chapter twenty already!**

Chapter Twenty- Dropping In.

A wave of energy shot through the city as the sky ripped open above Stark Tower with thousands of new stars and constellations. It should have been beautiful, a completely uncharted part of space, a whole universe of possibilities. One of those possibilities was a the Chitauri and they poured out of the tear hell bent on nothing but destruction. They were monstrous to look at, sharp looking skulls with translucent skin stretched almost to breaking point.

"Right. Army," Tony said, more than a tinge of panic staining his voice as his HUD went from the usual blue to red.

He flew up to the top of the tower, firing miniaturised Jericho missiles as he in an attempt to at the very least, slow down the invasion while dodging the energy blasts from the first wave of soldiers. There were too many, more were slipping through than he could destroy on his own. All he could do was delay until back up arrived.

The streets filled with people who stood awestruck at what they were seeing, their survival instinct ignored in favour of curiosity, but not for long. Within seconds they were screaming as soldiers in macabre chariots flew down to street level. Soldiers fired at civilians and a mass panic surged as people ran for cover inside, all the while, desperate to be able to see what was going on. Flaming upturned cars littered the roads as people scrambled to get out of the way into shops and cafes that were barely safer than the streets.

He looked every part the majestic prince, surveying the chaos that he had created, joyful as the city below him began to burn. Admiring the ground that was soon to be his kingdom. Asgard was a lost cause but Earth was ripe for the taking.

Thor landed on the balcony with a heavy thud, Mjolnir in his hand. Preparing himself for the strike.

"Loki! Turn off the Tesseract or I'll destroy it!"

"You can't," Loki laughed. Knowing that his brother didn't have the power. "There is no stopping it. There is only the war."

"So be it."

Loki launched himself onto the balcony below and immediately into battle with the man who was his brother only in name. They traded heavy blows, volleying back and forth as sceptre struck hammer. Thunder rattled the sky when weapons collided in a battle that was nothing short of deadly.

Thor held back, he easily could have subdued his brother using his strength but instead he held back, adamant that he wouldn't hurt his brother. Loki, on the other hand, wasn't being so merciful. His rage was fuelled by jealously, the centuries that he had been forced to live in the shadow of Thor, always the second son.

"Stark, we're on you're three, headed north east," Widow said, checking his position on one of the screens.

"What, did you stop for drive through? Swing up Park, Imma lay them out for you."

Tony shot through the skies with Chitauri soldiers chasing him firing, missing every one of their shots by inches, instead causing them to collide with the sky scrapers surrounding they dodged.

Widow and Lucifer took their places at the guns onboard the quinjet; Widow taking the front and Lucifer taking the back. The guns dropped down in seconds, already armed and ready to go. The controllers were more like the ones that came with Xboxes but the stakes were far higher than in _Call of Duty, _there would be no restarts if things went wrong. They picked of stragglers that had managed to break away from the first wave until Tony led them straight into the path of the quinjet. They flew straight towards a skyscraper positioned at the end of Park but instead of following the street and veering right towards the on going attack, Clint expertly aimed the quinjet towards the sky until they were clear of the surrounding buildings.

"Sir, we have more incoming," JARVIS informed, displaying each hospital around Stark Tower on 3D map just in Tony's peripheral vision.

"Fine, let's keep them occupied," Tony replied, once again racing ahead of the Chitauri to try and draw their fire away from the ground and make them easier targets for the quinjet.

Rosetta shot every Chitauri out of the sky that was in range, each chariot bursting into flames. The truth was that there were too many of them. All they were doing were slowing things down.

"We need to shut down that portal, more are coming through than we can take out," Lucie said. She stood in-between Clint and Natasha, eyes trained on the screen that showed the rear view and her targets. She pushed down the X to fire off at the Chitauri that had doubled back to follow them, sending out a continuous stream of bullets until there was nothing behind them.

"You got a plan?" Clint asked, flying down one of the streets that Tony had just disappeared down with a dozen or so chariots on this tail.

"Drop me at Stark Tower."

"You can't go in there without a plan!" Steve protested, moving to stand beside her, almost in the cockpit himself.

Lucie rolled her eyes and ground her teeth. Yet another man in her life telling her what she could and couldn't do based on zero information. It wasn't something that bothered her usually but this wasn't exactly a regular day at the office, there was none of the usual routine or preparation that went into their usual field work and it tended not to be so close to home.

"I have a goddamn plan, Rogers," she growled under her breath, it wasn't the complete truth but it was all he needed to know.

"Nat?" Clint said, gesturing for her to look out of his window to where Loki and Thor were battling on the balcony of Stark Tower.

"I see him."

"Get his attention," Lucie ordered.

"You sure you want to do this?" Natasha asked carefully. Her training had taught her how to deal with people like her teammate, a manipulation she didn't like but often found herself slipping into. She knew exactly how to control the inflection in her voice so that it came across as neither an accusation or concern, neither of which would provide an honest response from Lucie that wasn't fuelled by pride or bravado.

Lucie didn't answer her. Instead, she straightened her already straight fingerless gloves and spoke to the floor. "JARVIS, I need the Mark VI to catch me."

JARVIS spoke through the quinjet console and although he was an AI, they could have sworn that there was just a trace of fear.

"Miss Lucia, the Mark VI is significantly damaged."

"I don't need to wear it, I just need you to catch me. Ten second flight max," she reasoned, as if JARVIS could be gently persuaded into getting her what she wanted.

"Miss-"

"Just get me a suit!" she shouted as she strode towards the ramp at the rear of the quinjet, her patience wearing thin as she pulled her black bandana over her face, more to stop herself swallowing any flies and guard her hearing than anything else.

Arguing with a computer program would do nothing under the circumstances but yelling at JARVIS always tended to get the point across. She never knew how her father had managed to program emotions, or a sense of urgency when one of the Starks did something life threatening; like falling from a quinjet at 1100 feet.

"Drop in, 3, 2, 1," Clint said, releasing the ramp as Natasha rained down bullets on Loki below them.

Steve watched in shock at how casually she found her position on the edge of the ramp, as if it was something she had done a hundred times before. He flinched as Lucie dropped into free fall, even offering a mock salute his way in the second before the floor fell from under her. Without thinking, he stepped forward to catch her, recalling a moment not that long ago when he wasn't able to catch someone else as they plummeted to their death.

Loki shot a blast of energy their way, immediately knocking them off balance as one of the turbines burned away, taking a wing with it. The best they could hope for was a controlled crash landing, to make it to the ground without blowing up the quinjet and themselves along with it. They grazed against buildings, slowing the descent just enough that they would survive the landing. Once they hit the ground, Clint and Natasha ripped away their harnesses and followed Captain America onto the New York streets, finding rubble and smoke and chaos waiting for them.

"We gotta get back up there," Steve said, running towards the easily recognisable Stark Tower, even if it was missing a couple of letters.

For a few moments they stared at the portal, watching with horror as the foot soldiers were joined by a fully armed and manned warship. Slinking through the air like an eel in water only far more deadly. More Chitauri filed out, jumping into the offices and apartments that they levelled with intent on nothing but destruction.

"Stark, are you seeing this?"

"Seeing. Still working on believing. Where's Banner, has he shown up yet?" Tony wondered.

"Banner?" Steve replied in confusion.

"Just keep my posted. JARVIS, find me a soft spot."

Falling through the air would always make Lucie feel like she was drowning in her own adrenalin, time seemed to slow, as if the wind was trying desperately to catch her to slow her descent. Being grabbed in mid air by a metal suit was an entirely new experience. The scarlet arm that wound around her waist told her instantly that it was the Mark VI, the shell battered and some wiring torn away from the connectors. It was in bad shape, unlikely to ever be used again, but still, it carried her through the skies with whatever power it had left and deposited her haphazardly on the landing pad of the balcony before giving up completely and landing in a metal heap at her feet.

Lucie pulled her bandana down so that she there was no mistaking who she was. Obscuring her identity

"Loki!" Lucie screamed just as the god aimed his septre at the quinjet. It was the oldest trick in the book but the split second distraction might give Thor enough of an opening to stop him in his tracks and hopefully for Clint to get everyone out of the line of fire. If it didn't then then she would have to go with plan B.

The distraction worked just long enough for Thor to tackle his brother to the ground with enough strength to easily shatter the spine of a regular human. They traded punches, both holding back just enough that it would subdue but not seriously injure the other.

Lucie watched carefully as Thor held back his strength, flinching before every punch he let fly with a sad look in his eyes. He could easily have killed Loki, overpowering him with strength, but he didn't. Green and red blended together as the two dodged each other with the kind of ease that only came from training together.

Thor pushed the handle of Mjolnir against his brother's chest in an attempt to slow him, their faces inches apart as he tried one final time to reason with the brother who had fallen completely into madness.

"Look around you, you think this madness will end with your rule?!" Thor demanded.

Loki tried to tear himself away and for the first time since it had all begun, he didn't wear a smile, instead he spoke through gritted teeth.

"It's too late. It's too late to stop it."

Taking her opportunity, Lucie sprung from the landing pad to wear the pair were locked together. The wind caught her slightly, knocking her just a few degrees off as she landed, the impact shooting up her calves with a sharp sting, she hissed at the sensation. In one swift movement, she pulled a garote from her belt and wound it around her hands like a boxer did bandages. In the morning her hands would be aching from the wire being wound so tight, she knew all of this and she didn't care, if would be worth it.

When the wire kissed Loki's throat, he didn't panic, he didn't show even an ounce of concern, instead he just smiled and gave a deep laugh that dared not even escape his mouth. Lucie pulled hard, even anchoring her knee in the small of his back in an attempt to knock him off balance. She wasn't trying to kill him, she had already accepted that that was above her abilities, but if she could recapture him then maybe he could stop the portal before things got worse.

"I expected so much more from you."

At first, Lucie thought it was her to whom Loki was speaking, his voice barely distorted but when she felt the strength of Thor's grip faulter, she knew that he wasn't. A tiny blade, smaller than a butter knife stuck had pierced the skin, earning a furious growl from Thor.

A cold hand rested on hers, holding it tightly against his shoulder as he pulled the wire free and threw it over the side of the building like it was nothing, as if it hadn't been used as a weapon against him only moments ago. Free of Thor's grasp, Loki turned to face her, slightly disappointed.

"You really though that would subdue me?" he asked.

Lucie smirked, taking back her hand and selecting a knife from by her waist.

"No, but I thought it might slow you down."

Unable to keep a lid on his tempter, and wanting to do Loki some serious damage in return, Thor raised his foot and snapped it forward so that Loki went hurtling from the building, the drop to the concrete below would have killed any human, no questions asked, at the very least it would be able to do some damage to an Asgardian.

Unfortunately, said Asgardian wasn't going down alone and Loki was all too willing to drag Lucie down with him, gripping her arm tightly as he held her with him against the side of the building.

"JARVIS!" Lucie screamed, praying that a suit would be there to catch her if Loki decided it would be easier just to let her fall to her death.

**The thing about the controllers on the quinjet is actually true. I forget which military it is, I think the British, who on their subs use xbox controllers instead of the ones that the manufacturer supplied because they were hella expensive and kept breaking. For this otherwise useless information thank QI! If you've never seen it, go enjoy half an hour of nonsense. **

**There's a lot of to-ing and fro-ing in this chapter, mainly because weve got things happening to different characters all at the same time. Makes it a little difficult to write. **

**Seriously, go watch QI.**


	22. Hold On

**So here we go with chapter twenty one! **

**There are a few things in this chapter that will be picked up on in later chapters. There just wasn't time to dwell on them in the scene and with everything going on, it will take a minute for Lucie to piece things together. **

Chapter Twenty One- Hold On.

JARVIS didn't answer her cries for help.

The air around her felt strong enough to hold her but instead it let her harmlessly slip through. The fall wouldn't kill her, no it would be the landing that would finish her off. For a moment she couldn't figure out what it was that she had caught herself on, the only reasonable explanation was Stark Tower since it was the closest thing to her but the glass and steel would have made it impossible. Factoring in the fact that she was moving horizontally through the air rather than falling, she dismissed it, squinting to see what her hand had so luckily grabbed.

Her eyes followed the length of her arm, trying to figure out the position she had found herself in. The Chitauri chariot came into view before she realised where she was anchored and she scrambled to formulate some kind of plan that went beyond _don't die._ By the time she realised where hanging, it was too late. She hadn't been lucky, she hadn't managed to grab onto a chariot that just happened to be flying by, no, she wasn't hanging on at all. She was being held tightly by the wrist and hers was wrapped around Loki's in return for extra stability. There were no voices in her head that belonged to her makeshift team, only her own slightly panicked monologue that repeated itself over and over. _Don't let go. _The only thing helping her fight against gravity was Loki's unfaltering grip around her dominant wrist. His hand completely wrapping around her Kevlar covered wrist to the point that her arm guard was threatening to meld with the skin on her wrist. The imprint of the guard would certainly be there for a several days, leaving thick purple and yellow bruises behind. Just another battle wound to add to the day's running total.

Holding her own body weight wasn't a problem, her training had served her well in that regard. The hours in the gym had paid off, the only thing she was worried about was Loki's grip, there was no logical reason for him to still keep hold of her, as his enemy he would be in a far better position to let her fall to her death.

Of all the terrorists and gangsters and scumbags that she had come up against in her time at SHIELD, not a single one matched the confidence that Loki oozed. Somehow his confidence didn't seem arrogant, even with his sizable ego. Somehow next to Loki, her father looked down right humble.

The chariot wasn't too far out of her reach, if she swung herself then she could probably get enough momentum to get herself safely to the ground or at the very least take Loki down with her if she failed to make the leap. She put it on the back burner, not so much a plan B as a plan Z. Getting to the ground in one piece was the goal, preferably without breaking both of her legs in the fall. She would have to choose her moment perfectly, tagging out wasn't an option.

Her grip was slowly beginning to betray her, palms becoming sweaty beneath the leather of her gloves as Loki dared to lead a squad ever closer to the ground, each breath becoming more and more forced as she concentrated on maintaining her grip.

"Lucie?" came a voice over her comms and she couldn't help but wince at the terrible timing.

"Little busy, Dad!" she winced, forcing the air out of her lungs as she spoke, each word burning her throat.

"Where are you?"

"Busy!"

Gently, Lucie slipped a blade from her thigh belt, careful not to drop it onto the tarmac below. It became easier to make out the people below her; the courier who had fled from his bike while still wearing his helmet with parcels still in his backpack, the woman who sprinted from her car with only one shoe, dripping over debris that littered the road. Ordinary people who had been living ordinary lives.

In the split second that she had rushed him, she had tried to get a device to stick to his neck, a tiny piece of metal that she had programmed to incapacitate when instructed, sending electrical shocks through the nervous system; it could knock out a human on the spot easily, a god would likely have better immunity. She didn't care so long as it hurt. The only problem was that she was in no position to see if she had actually hit her target or if the device was somewhere on the launchpad of Stark Tower, completely useless to her and her whole point for getting to the Tower in the first place.

Just as Lucie was preparing herself to slice Loki's wrist, his grip slackened, dropping her onto the bridge with as much grace as a pillowcase full of bricks. Landing in a heap, with her knees only just bend to take the majority of the impact. She slumped to the side, her shoulder crashing into the tarmac with an unhealthy crunch. Pain shot up her legs and into her hips from not sticking the landing and she chalked it up as another injury for the day. Pain she could ignore, pain was temporary. That was what Natasha had taught her and it was something she was desperately trying to remind herself of, repeating the mantra over and over in her head.

She didn't get a chance to look back at Loki, no way to question why he had intentionally let her go. He was long gone by the time she figured out the direction of the sky. Any questions she had about it were put to one side, there would be time for questions later. She hoped.

"Copy?" she asked, prodding her earpiece in the hope that it would bring them back to life.

Not too far away, Clint, Natasha and Steve assessed the ground, looking for civilians that had become trapped in the initial wave. It was something that none of the three had ever seen, not during the second world war or in the days of the KGB, they were completely out of their depth, but that wasn't going to stop them.

They crouched low behind an abandoned cab, keeping themselves out of the firing line as much as possible until they came up with a plan. Clint and Natasha kept their backs to each other, between them covering as much of the battle zone as possible.

"Luce?" Clint asked.

He hadn't agreed with Lucie's plan one bit, he didn't want her in the firing line of Loki, especially given the way it had screwed him up. If Natasha hadn't been sat beside him then he never would have let her go, but as always, the Russian was the voice of reason. "Yeah. What's your location?" Lucie replied, still trying to catch her breath after the fall.

"Grand central."

"I'm not too far away. I'm coming to you."

"You good?"

"Yeah, I'll see you in a few. Dad? You there?"

The first few steps were painful, threatening to stop her from walking completely but instead she convinced herself that if she ran that it would be over soon, the equivalent of ripping off the band aid. She pushed herself through the crowds that had gathered for shelter in the tunnel beside the Helmsley Building, weaving through the injured and those who had escaped in time.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine. What's the situation up there?" she asked.

"What are you even doing in New York!"

"Can you just answer the question?" Lucie was beginning to lose her patience. The field was familiar to her, she knew how to behave and how to react. All she needed was information.

The fear around her was thick, so much so that she could almost taste it. Hundreds of people all cowering from the alien invasion, clinging to strangers for comfort and calling loved ones to let them know they were okay. At the far end of the tunnel was a news crew, the camera man, idiotically stood outside of the tunnel in an attempt to get a better shot while a roaming reported attempted to detail the events that were unfolding with an uncertain stutter as she spoke. Lucie pulled the pair back into the tunnel, revving herself up to remind them exactly how stupid they were. The camera clattered the ground, bouncing slightly but was otherwise undamaged. The nerves in her shoulder groaned under the strain but if there was any pain she didn't feel it, either too distracted by the pain in her legs or her brain had filed her shoulder away as a problem to be dealt with later.

"Stay out of the way," she warned, no room for argument or defiance in her tone.

The pair didn't reply, instead they stared as her and nodded insistently. The camera man stared at the ground next to his camera where a scorch mark blackened the ground, the spot that he had occupied.

"There's more coming in, we need to stop that portal."

"You know the city?" Lucie asked, clear and certain.

They nodded again.

"I need you to get all of these people underground and out of the open. Can you do that?" It wasn't so much a question as an instruction. They were safer than the civilians still trapped on the street, the ones who still needed help.

They looked at each other as if debating the question before the woman stood up tall and straightened her faux vintage jacket. She nodded and Lucie offered a hopeful smile.

"Go."

Steve studied the area around them, making quick decisions about who did and didn't need their help, or rather who needed it more. The majority of the civilians had managed to get away to safety but there were still a few trapped in busses and cabs. Some of the cabs that were jammed shut by other cars during the collision. Chitauri shot at civilians, leaving nothing but fiery destruction in their wake.

"We've got civilians trapped," Clint said, his bow already in his hand.

"They're fish in a barrel down there," Steve agreed, watching as cars were blown away in the Chitauri fire as civilians ran for cover. "Those people need assistance down there."

Immediately Natasha sprang to her feet, taking both of her guns and aiming them at the second wave that was heading towards them, taking out a couple but nowhere near enough.

"We got this, it's good. Go!" For once, Natasha's confidence was beginning to fail her.

"Think you can hold them off?" Steve checked.

"Captain, it would be my genuine pleasure," Clint replied, already having set switched the dial on his quiver to something far more deadly than his standard arrows.

An arrow flew effortlessly from his bow and ledged itself into the head of one of the foot soldiers, exploding on impact and buying the Captain a few precious seconds to get out of the way and run towards the civilians that were trapped on the plaza, dodging in and out of cars as if they were nothing.

Hawkeye raced over to a bus and immediately started to help people file out and helping children through the window while Widow tried to cover him, quickly emptying both clips into the ranks that were quickly descending on them.

"Just like Budapest all over again," she joked, shooting into the foot soldiers who had joined the party.

"You and I remember Budapest very differently."

She smirked a little at that one, even daring a tiny sigh of relief when a familiar face came to stand with them, shooting her own weapons and flooring every Chitauri she aimed at.

"Sorry, I'm late. Traffic was hell."

**This is a shorter chapter so I'm sorry! I just needed to get something out and everything has been so hectic recently!**

**For everyone that is protesting, stay safe. You're changing the world.**


	23. A Little Worse

**Here we are at chapter twenty two! Hope everyone's staying safe!**

**So it turns out that I forgot to upload this. Oops. Sorry.**

**As soon as I've reached the end of this story, I'm going back to edit it to make it better. This is by no means my best work but I plan to make it that way, **

Chapter Twenty Two- A Little Worse.

Clint was right. New York wasn't the same as Budapest. Until very recently it had been _the _mission, the legend that secured their careers with SHIELD. Budapest might as well have been Little League with the Chitauri against them.

"Anyone else think we should get a raise after this?" Lucie asked nonchalantly.

"You're a billionaire," Natasha half laughed.

The former Russian spy crouched low, taking care to keep herself from becoming an easy target despite Lucie keeping her eyes on the sky; an old habit to watch out for herself, to keep herself alive. She counted each shot, an old habit that made sure that she never ran out of bullets. As each clip emptied, she let them drop to the floor and then slammed home a new magazine of ammunition before the old clip had even hit the floor with barely a break in the gunfire.

"It's the principle!"

In an attempt to save some of her knives, Lucie too opened fire, aiming for the Chitauri flying overhead in attempt to weed out some of the civilians who had yet to get to safety. She couldn't help but feel out of her depth, her thoughts struggling to focus on the task at hand when more chaos than she had ever seen threatened to drown them.

Glass shattered as it collided with concrete and the stone facades of some of the older buildings were beginning to crumble and fall to the ground below, some landing on cars and others smashing to the ground with a dull, echoing thump.

"Nat," Clint half sang, well aware of a Chitauri on the ground that was making it's way towards the trio.

"I know," she replied.

Eyeing the spear it held, Natasha waited until it was close enough for her not break rank; acutely aware of the risk it could have to her team mates. With her weapon trained at the soldier's head, she fired once it was almost close enough to stab the spear through her torso. Bang. With a single shot the soldier crumpled the ground and didn't move again. Quickly, Natasha snatched up the spear and aimed it another soldier who had decided on it's next target.

Clint tried to ignore the alien invasion around them though it would be a lie to say that he wasn't freaking out. His stomach churned, unable to think past keeping himself, Natasha and Lucie alive. The professional in him barely managed to keep it together, concentrating on loading each arrow and following through when it struck its target perfectly each time. After so much practice and experience, archery was easy for him, as simple as walking and as natural as breathing, still there was an amazing amount of concentration that went into each shot.

He tried to ignore the alien soldier that fell to the floor when Black Widow shot it through the chest with a Chitauri spear, but he was, as usual, nothing short of impressed. She was built for this. She must have been a fan of her newly acquired weapon because she had dropped her guns to the floor with the clips still half full.

To hiss left, Lucie wore the razor sharp confidence and focus that waited for her in the field. You would never know from that tableau that she disliked guns, her grip around the grip unwavering as she fired off in cannon into the skies, sending the soldiers to the ground and their crafts losing all power and crashing to the ground and into piles of shrapnel and flames.

Together they launched themselves from the bridge and down to where Rogers was fighting solo, the police following his orders on foot, leading civilians to safety and shooting at the sky as they went, evacuating the block to the best of their ability. Despite their rudimentary aim, some officers managed to take down some of the Chitauri, bringing down the threat with every one that they got out of action.

Lightning cracked in the sky and all four of them dared a glance to Stark Tower but unable to see anything from their position. On an otherwise mild day, they could only assume it was the god of thunder himself.

Steve moved so that he was back to back with Lucie, shielding her from attack as she engaged hand to hand with a foot soldier, her cover lost as Clint and Natasha were locked in their own battles.

"You good?" Steve grunted, knocking a soldier to the ground with his shield.

"Another day in paradise," she smirked. Her eyes held no warmth, instead it had been replaced with raw adrenaline. She swung a knife from her hip so that it slashed straight through a foot soldiers chin and then wiped the ink like substance on her gear before it had even hit the ground.

"What's the story upstairs?" Rogers asked as Thor landed with a graceful thud onto the asphalt beside them.

They allowed themselves to look at the sky for a moment, assessing how bad it truly was, a quick count of just how outnumbered they were. They also made sure to take a few seconds to catch their breath.

"The powers surrounding the cube are impenetrable," Thor answered, annoyance radiating in his voice.

"Thor's right, we gotta deal with these guys," Tony countered, still avoiding the Chitauri in the sky, taking out what he could along the way. "Lu? You good?"

"I'm fine. You?" For once, she didn't let her childhood nickname annoy her, instead she just answered the question and then refocused herself.

"You know me, getting there."

"How do we do this?" Natasha asked, for once in her career looking for some kind of leadership.

"As a team." He sounded so bold and confident that nobody questioned him. It wasn't a plan but it was a start.

"I have unfinished business with Loki," Thor announced.

Behind him, Clint checked the tip of an arrow that he had retrieved from where he had lodged it in the chest of a Chitauri soldier. "Yeah? Get in line."

"I'm behind Hawk," Lucie agreed, taking the opportunity to change out the magazine in her handgun. She wiped the grip with her sleeve and flexed her hand to relax the tendons that were starting to burn.

"Save it," Rogers said, refocusing them as he compiled his plan of action. "Loki's going to keep this fight focused on us and that's what we need. Without him these things could run wild. We got Stark up top, he's gonna need us." He stopped, distracted by a motorbike appearing in his periphery.

It barely ran, the engine covered in rust and duct tape, the fact that it had arrived in one piece had been a miracle in itself. Astride it sat Doctor Bruce Banner who looked around the city as he barely registered the shocking destruction around him. "So… this all seems horrible."

"I've seen worse." Natasha dared a half smile.

"Sorry."

"No, we could use a little worse," she reassured.

"Stark? We got him," Rogers said over the comms, unsure of where exactly the billionaire was in the city.

"Banner?" Tony asked with a relieved sigh.

"Just like you said."

"Tell him to suit up. I'm bringing the party to you."

Tony had barely finished his sentence when he flew into view, a scarlet metal missile swooping around the corner with a Chitauri Leviathan barrelling down the street after him with no plan of stopping.

"I don't see how that's a party…" Natasha stuttered, watching in horror at the next wave of the Chitauri army.

"Holy shit…" Lucie whispered to herself, her eyes immediately fixed on the red and gold metal man that was racing ahead, too close for comfort.

"Doctor Banner, now might be a really good time for you to get angry," the Captain advised.

"That's my secret Captain. I'm always angry."

With far less spectacle than on the Andraste, the transformation far more controlled as his skin turned green and began to swell so that Banner was lost in under the Hulk. There was no battle this time, Banner willingly handed over his control and let the big guy take over.

**So this one is a little short but there's still more to come. **

**Stay safe everyone, may it be in the BLM protests or Covid.**


	24. The Next Wave

**With lockdown I don't know which way is up. Tbh I don't even know what day it is anymore. **

Chapter 23- The Next Wave

Seeing the Hulk morph into existence in such a controlled and almost calm way was both terrifying and beautiful. Banner's shirt lay torn and tattered on the floor, already coated with debris. The Leviathan didn't stand a chance. The front end smashed in with a single punch as Hulk used the advantage it had given him to shove his full strength against the hull of the ship came to a halt and the tail flew into the air as it failed to completely lose its momentum.

"Hold on!" Tony shouted, firing off missiles until the tail came away, almost close enough to hit the team on the ground.

Thor shielded his eyes with his hand, his hammer still raised as metal and flames fell towards them.

Natasha covered her face with her arm, crouching down beside Steve as he lifted his shield to the sky, in the same moment, he pulled Lucie towards him and gently tucked her under his shield along with Natasha. Fire rained down and shrapnel quickly followed, ricocheting harmlessly off the vibranium shield, leaving those under it, clear from harm. For a few seconds they waited for the shower of metal against Steve's shield to stop.

Lucie stepped away first, immediately looking to the skies and when she failed to spot the familiar red suit, she began to panic. A feeling of relief drowned her for a second when she was pulled into an awkward but brief hug, leather and Kevlar against scorched metal.

"Lu?"

It was barely a syllable but the use of her childhood nickname threatened to pull her out of the mission headspace she was trying to anchor herself in. She pulled away, offering nothing more than a raised eyebrow and a nod in the way of emotion before letting an empty mag clatter to the concrete at her feet and reload a fresh one, loading the first round into the chamber.

The decision to keep his helmet lowered had been a deliberate one. Loki's words had latched on, a tiny chip in a mirror that was getting bigger the more he watched his daughter in the field. Throughout her childhood, he had never let her hold a weapon, not even a toy sword when she went through her pirate phase at age four. _How does it feel to know that you raised a killer? _Loki could have been lying but the more Tony studied her, the more he knew it to be true. Then there was the way she had goaded Fury after slamming her resignation onto the briefing table. _Put a kill order out on me and see what happens. _She was like a whole different person. Less the little girl who followed him around, worshipped him almost, and more the dangerous weapon of an intelligence agency.

"Guys," Natasha warned, her eyes trained in the direction of Stark Tower where another wave was making their way into the city. More than they could ever have dreamed existed.

"Fuck," Lucie exhaled, her jaw slack as more Leviathans poured from the portal like water from a free flowing faucet.

"Yeah," Clint agreed. The only time that Lucie had ever seen him legitimately struggling for words.

"Pay rise. Just saying."

"Call it Cap," Tony said.

"Alright, listen up. Until we can close that portal up there, we're gonna use containment. Barton, I want you on that rood, eyes on everything. Call out patterns and strays." Steve then turned to Tony, pointing towards the skies. "Stark, you got the perimeter. Anything that gets more than three blocks out, you turn it back or you turn it to ash."

"Wanna give me a lift?" Barton asked.

"Right, better clench up Legolas."

Clint knew a lot about Tony Stark from both his own research and from Lucie's stories; he knew next to nothing about the Iron Man suit. Still, he wasn't expecting that amount of power to come out it. Still, on the battlefield, all he could afford to consider him as was an ally…and a ride.

"Thor, you've got to try and bottleneck that portal. Slow them down. You've got the lightning, so light the bastards up."

Thor gave a single nod and then braced himself to launch into the sky, ready to take down whatever Chitauri he came across enroute to the tower. Easily swinging Mjolnir with enough force to wipe soldiers clean out of their altitude.

Steve then turned to Natasha and Lucie. "We stay here, on the ground. Keep the fighting here."

Then finally. "And Hulk. Smash."

Although he didn't speak, Hulk looked pleased with this advisement. He grinned and ran off to where the density of Chitauri was thickest. Easy pickings for the Hulk but definitely worth the fun.

Seeing the Hulk in action sent Lucie headfirst into shock, of everything she had faced in her career, none of it had prepared her for the Hulk. He looked like every single one of her childhood monsters mangled up together with a deafening growl that stopped her heart from momentarily beating. Breathing became difficult for a few seconds as her body froze until the green beast was safely out of sight. She stared at both Steve and Natasha, who seemed to be handling Banner's transformation far better than she was. Still, she had to admit that she was grateful that Hulk was on their side as he bounded from building to building, ripping soldiers from their perches and slamming them to the ground or into neighbouring structures.

Lucie growled as she slammed a knife into the eye socket of a Chitauri that attempted to pull a teenager boy from underneath a car, one that had been missed during their initial sweep. He fought against the soldier's tight grip on his ankle, shaking until the immobile hand broke contact. She pulled the boy to his feet started running with him in the direction of Grand Central Station, all the while shouting instructions into his ear.

"Head for Grand Central, run like hell and stay out of sight. There's nine rounds left. Go!" Her side arm was slammed into the young man's hand and when she was confident that he had a decent grip of it; Lucie let go and then launched him in front of her, propelling her onwards with enough force to prevent him from being able to turn back.

Once safely out of her grasp, Lucie returned her full attention to the street where Chitauri were still ravaging the city. She wiped away the sweat from her forehead, unable to tell if her muscles were burning under the strain of the fight.

In the singular second of time that she waited for the next wave, she became more aware of her own body. There was blood in her mouth, the metal tang no doubt the result of a lucky shot from one of the Chitauri. Next she texted her fingers, flexing the digits to check the fluidity. Her fingers extended in multiple tiny movements, they way that robots lacked grace in their manoeuvres; she ignored the frustration and shook out both hands, hoping for no logical reason that it would return her hands to their usual state.

The next wave didn't come and as she jogged back towards where she and Natasha had parted, she felt her adrenaline starting to fade away and her energy beginning to betray her.

Natasha held a Chitauri spear, capable of both shooting energy blasts and also skewering an enemy, it looked wrong in her hands although certainly effective given the number of fallen soldiers at her feet. She almost shot Steve straight in the chest, stopping herself at the last possible second when she realised that he wasn't a threat to her before allowing herself to half slump against an abandoned cab.

"Captain, none of this is going to mean a damn thing if we don't close that portal." Natasha was right of course. They could only slow the invasion for so long, especially with so few fighters.

"Our biggest guns couldn't reach it," Steve stated, staring up at the portal above Stark Tower.

"Maybe it's not about guns."

"You're not?" Lucie asked in disbelief, piecing the spy's plan together seconds before Steve got there himself.

Natasha's eyes darted across the sky to the few Chitauri that were still at street level; meanwhile, Lucie shot her a look that questioned her sanity.

"Sure, it'll be fun. Need a boost though."

Steve nodded as Natasha took a few paces back, eyes trained on the sky as she timed her run up and then used Steve's shield as a spring board as he helped propel her into the path of one of the chariots.

"She'll be fine," Lucie offered.

"This kind of thing happen a lot?" he asked.

"Well, not exactly like this," she smirked in reply.

**So it's been a minute. Thanks for sticking with me!**

**The battle should be finished in a couple of chapters and then we'll have a few more chapters after that and then we're done with this and I'll go back and edit. **


	25. Check Ins

**I'll be honest, I don't even know what day we're on anymore. **

Chapter 24- Check Ins.

New York had gone to hell; civilians hid where ever they could as buildings collapsed around them and glass shattered. Their cries for help went unheard, masked by the sound of stone hitting concrete and battle cries from an invading force beyond their imagination. Still, entwined in the chaos and destruction were a handful of people fighting against the aliens who flew around the city like teenagers on a joyride.

Lucie and Steve had barely trained together, they worked out together regularly but it was rare that they sparred, a detail that Lucie scorned herself for. It would have made them a better team had they known each others moves. While Steve kept a steady pace, knocking each Chitauri to the ground that came at him, Lucie's arms started to tire and the adrenaline that was holding her pain at bay began to crack as lethargy and ache began to flood her system.

Thor found himself at the other end of the scale, not only was he not tiring, but he was enjoying himself, revelling in the joy that battle brought him.

"You need to hurry it up, Nat," she grunted, wiping the blood from her chin and allowing herself a couple of seconds before she re-joined the fight.

"You okay Lucia?" Tony asked, his voice dripping with fear and panic.

"I'm fine, get off the channel please," she answered, unable to stop herself from sounding frustrated.

Her request would have sparked an argument had they not been interrupted by a far more serious threat.

"Stark, you hearing me? We have a missile heading straight for the city," Fury informed, just like every other order he gave to an agent in the field.

"How long?" Tony and Lucie asked in unison, both looking to the skies in search of an answer in the shape of a bomb.

"Three minutes, at best. Stay low and wipe out that missile."

Three minutes, not much time by anyone's standards. Still, on the ground with a clip half emptied and a handful of knives at her disposal, there wasn't much Lucie could do. She grunted and kicked the door of the nearest car closed with enough force to shatter the window and leaving a boot shaped dent in the door panel.

All Lucie could picture was Hiroshima, the black and white photographs that became so grotesquely iconic. She knew all the figures, how many deaths, the stats of the bomb, the height at which it exploded, how much of the city was decimated. Back in 1945 five square miles was just about the extent of their power, 67 years later that area would only be larger. With SHIELD's innovation a nuclear missile could easily decimate New York State. Millions of people reduced to ash and it was SHIELD who would be unapologetically responsible.

Steve watched her, taking a step back as if to move out of the firing line. He had heard Fury's message over their comms but he didn't understand what was going on, not having the information to do so. He hadn't seen the photographs or heard the same stories that Lucie had grown up with, with that much history to catch up on since he went into the ice, it wasn't all that surprising. When the first missiles were developed, they were rarely used and certainly weren't well known.

The look on Lucie's face told him everything that he needed to know. Her eyes held nothing but cold flint, every other emotion bleached from her mind as her face began to change to that of a dangerous shade of red. It was then he knew that the missiles weren't on their way to help.

"SHIELD want to wipe New York off the map," Lucie explained through gritted teeth, taking out her aggression on a wave of Chitauri foot soldiers that were heading their way.

"I can close it! Can anyone hear me? I can close the portal!" Natasha shouted down the comms, looking for some kind of agreement from the rest of the team.

"Do it!" Steve answered only to be contradicted a second later.

"No! We got a nuke coming in in less than a minute. And I know just where to put it."

With his HUD tracking the missile's trajectory, Tony watched it closely as he sped to catch up with it, attempting to guide it off course just enough that he would be able manipulate it into the portal and out of harms way. Even if it blew up over the sea, the damage would be astronomical. Even with the suit, he barely had enough strength, pulling it away from its target with every ounce he had.

"Stark, you know that's a one-way trip?" Steve asked, not entirely sure who he was asking.

With another wave defeated, Lucie looked to the sky, for once not feeling pride or relief when she saw the familiar red and gold suit fly through the air. Instead she could feel the sweat on her hands and the tightness of her grip against the only knife she had left.

"Lu?" Tony asked.

"I'm here," she answered, barely a breath.

"You know I love you right?"

"Course I do. Just come home," she pleaded, watching as her father got closer and closer to Stark Tower.

"Shall I call Miss Potts, Sir?" JARVIS asked.

"Give it a shot," Tony replied, honestly glad of some kind of distraction from what he was about to do.

Peppers image sat in the corner of the display, waiting for her to answer her phone so that he could say just one final goodbye. The HUD began to drain of any remaining power, the display showing nothing at all so that all Tony could see was the inside of his own suit as the missile found a new target in space; the Chitauri Armada.

He stared in horror at what he saw, dozens of ships, each far more advanced than he ever could have dreamed of. They weren't the streamlined kind that Tony had imagined as a kid but instead looked like they had been forged in a scrap yard, bits and pieces everywhere that he had no idea of the function of. As an inventor, he often saw the beauty in things that others didn't, engine parts and tools but rather than being in awe of the Chitauri, he was terrified, he was out of his depth, shocked that they had managed to hold them at bay for so long.

He had only one thing left that he could do and he wasn't entirely sure that it would work or even make a dent in their armour. The missile meant to wipe New York off the map. Letting go of the missile was easier than he expected, the bomb shooting into the middle of the army and exploding with spectacular force.

"Dad?" Lucie asked, receiving nothing in return. "Dad!"

She didn't feel it when her legs buckled from under her yet her glare didn't falter.

"Close it," Steve reluctantly ordered, knowing that Natasha was waiting for the order before making her move.

In the middle of combat, every soldier dropped to the ground, its connection with the Armada severed. A heavy heap of metal and chaos clattering to the concrete in grotesque unison. Then, just like that, the battle was over.

Lucie had her head in her hands, a rare moment of stillness as she allowed grief and failure to drown her.

"Son of a bitch," Steve smiled.

Lucie's eyes shot to the sky in time to see Tony tumble towards the ground, spinning further and further out of control.

"J, pull up. JARVIS!" Lucie shouted, as if the AI would be able to hear her better through the comms. "JARVIS!" she screamed, her throat threatening to tear from the pressure of the shriek that ripped through her.

**Well it's been a while. We don't have many left now!**

**Stay safe.**


	26. A Moment of Stillness

**Okay so rewatching this as I write and there are several scenes that I'm convinced that weren't in the versions that were in the pictures or on the telly. Hence why there might be some gaps if you're watching it on Disney plus. **

Chapter Twenty Five- A Moment of Stillness.

From her position atop Stark Tower, Natasha could see everything from the streets below to the galaxy above. She had never been particularly interested in space, knowing only what she needed to for the occasional assignment. The sights she could ignore, store it away in a box to either review later or forget about completely. When a mangled scream came over the radio, she winced, closing her eyes tightly as if to turn away from the pain of her closest friend's heart breaking. It wasn't the first time she had heard a human make that kind of noise and she reluctantly added it to the catalogue of others she had collected throughout the years, some she had even caused. She kept her eyes trained on the skies, watching as the gap in reality became smaller and smaller, Tony's window of time to get back to earth closing.

For the first time in what felt like hours, the skies were calm and the city was at a standstill. Aside from her initial assessment for SHIELD and stories from Lucie, Natasha didn't know much about the billionaire. The one thing that was obvious was how much he loved his daughter. As a child, before the Red Room, that was the way she imagined her own parents, although she remembered very little of them, untrusting of those small moments for fear that it was something conjured up by her imagination.

At the very last moment, when hope had been lost, a figure slipped through. The scarlet and gold of the suit impossible to mistake. By the skin of teeth he had made it.

"Son of a bitch."

Unfortunately the relief was short lived as it quickly became apparent that Tony had no control over his suit. He tumbled uncontrollably through the air, replacing horrified screams with sharp orders.

On the street, Lucie begged the AI to take control of the suit so that her father didn't crash to the ground. Knowing that despite her father's ingenuity that he would not be able to survive that kind of fall.

When a green blur shot through the air, clinging onto buildings as he went, all Lucie could do was stare, paralysed with horror as Hulk snatched Tony out of freefall. Though why Hulk was that high up was a mystery to her, had she known the damage he had just inflicted on Loki, she would have thanked him.

Everyone stared as Hulk gradually came to the ground, landing close by and taking all of the impact himself as he carried Tony's lifeless body. Thor moved forward, immediately removing the front portion of the helmet and tossing it across the debris covered street to where it skidded to barely an inch away from her scuffed surface of her boots.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Lucie frozen, the only time he had ever seen her afraid. All the bravado and sarcasm and jokes had melted away as she was unable to tear herself away from the . Her eyes had lost their usual sparkle and the slightest shock threatened to make her crumble completely. He reached out to guide her towards her father and felt the her hand relax as his hand touched hers, letting the knife she held fall to the ground and land with a dull thud in the ash at her feet.

As soon as Steve let go of her hand, Lucie rooted herself to the ground, unable to move any further when she the arc reactor at her father's chest, no power. The suit was powered by the miniature arc reactor that kept shrapnel from entering his heart, if it wasn't lit then that could mean only one thing. She dared not blink. Unable to tear away from the dust filled tears away. Of all the death and destruction she had witnessed, none of it had stopped her in her tracks quite like this. Everything around her was silent, the world around her still, instead all she could hear was her own strained breathing. There was no training she could call on and she had no energy to try and figure it out for herself, instead relying on instinct.

The Hulk stood over her father and while she knew it was a deafening roar that he made, she didn't hear a thing, still fixed on her fathers face. There wasn't a single mark or blemish to his skin, the suit had done it's job and protected him from harm but not even he had considered what the suit may need outside of Earth's atmosphere.

Even when Tony's eyes shot open and he gasped for air, Lucie didn't react, convinced that it was some trick that her mind was playing on her.

"What the hell? What just happened?" Tony asked as the arc reactor powered back to life. "Please tell me that nobody kissed me."

"We won," Steve answered quietly.

"Lucia?" Tony asked, frantically looking around for some sign that she was safe.

He catalogued each injury he saw. The cut to her forehead, the bruising around her neck, the wrist guard that was barely attached to her torn uniform. He almost didn't recognise her.

At the mention of her name, she felt a weight being lifted from her chest and Lucie was finally able to take a breath. She let the kneepads of her uniform clatter against the concrete and taking one of Tony's hands in both of hers, his suit making hers look like that of a small child.

"I'm okay," she said, offering up a grateful smile as she was pulled her tightly against Tony's armoured chest. The relief starting to counteract the grief as she let herself drop the façade and tears fell down her face.

"Alright, hey good job guys. Let's not come in tomorrow, lets just take a day. Have you ever tried shawarma? There's a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don't know what that is, but I want to try it."

"We're not finished yet," Thor announced, his gaze fixed on Stark Tower.

The final loose end that needed to be tied. Loki.

"And then, shawarma after."

Everyone was silent on the ride up to the penthouse, exhaustion weighing heavy on them all with the exception of Thor who was still riding the high battle had given him. The elevator had no music and other than to inform them that Loki was under guard, JARVIS didn't speak.

For Lucie, the initial shock had started to wear off as she kept a firm grip around Tony's arm, the scorched metal giving her a kind of comfort that it had never given her before. Wires and circuitry threatened started to dig awkwardly into her arm but she didn't care, instead clinging harder as if to make sure that he wouldn't disappear.

Her free hand was reached out beside her to where Clint stood, bow in hand. The pair didn't speak yet somehow Steve watched as they had an entire conversation without so much as looking at each other.

The pair studied the other with careful consideration, something they had done dozens of times before on the way back from missions. In simpler times when they dealt with drug dealers and mafia bosses and corrupt government officials with the occasional pirate for good measure. How had they gone from that to fighting gods and aliens in the middle of New York City?

Clint returned a stray knife he had found embedded into a Chitauri and she wiped the blade on her thigh and then slipped it easily into an empty sheath on her belt. Other than reaching out to take his hand, Lucie didn't react, didn't flinch as her knife was returned home. Instead, she reached out and took his hand, glad of reminder that after everything he had been dragged through over the past few days, Clint was safe. Maybe not fine, but safe.

Natasha was waiting for them in the penthouse with a drink one hand and Loki's sceptre in the other. For anyone else, drinking on the job would be frowned upon but over the years, American vodka had next to no effect. Had she not been a made the way she had, she would have been quick to revenge, lashing out without a thought of the consequences. The Red Room had taught her better, she planned and bided her time until the perfect moment, a spider sitting on the edge of her web. It would be easy for her to take the sceptre in her hand and swing it with enough force to make a permanent home in Loki's skull. The sceptre was the most powerful thing she has ever touched to the point that she could swear that it almost spoke to her, urging her to go on. While she would gladly play guardian, she would be grateful when it was out of her hands. It felt nothing like the spears she had used on the ground against the Chitauri. Instead it was heavy and cold under her touch.

She was almost glad then the other Avengers stepped out of the elevator; taking the temptation out of her hands as she locked eyes with Clint and Lucie. More conversation without speaking, there would be time for that later. They were both alive and that was all she ever asked for these days, the two agents who had managed to sneak past the majority of the walls she had locked herself behind.

With Loki still in the marble crater where the Hulk had left him earlier, a crumpled mess in no better shape than a ragdoll. The Avengers surrounded him looking less than impressed.

"If it's all the same to you, I'll have that drink," the god said with a pained look on his face. Somehow accepting in the eyes of his defeat. There was no way out, no more cards left for Loki to play. Not with the Avengers stood above him and quashing any thought of another attempt. The battle had been fought and lost.

"All right. Get him on his feet, we can stand posing up a storm later. By the way, feel free to clean up," Tony said, wandering off to make note of everything that had been damaged.

"Who gets the magic wand?" Natasha asked, twirling it around her finger like a gymnast with a baton.

"My votes on using it in a batting cage," Lucie muttered so that only she and Clint could hear.

Clint laughed, quickly checking around to make sure that nobody saw.

"STRIKE Team's coming to secure it," Steve answered.

After months of plans and arguments between him and Pepper, they had finally managed to get it perfect. Now it was just another project. This time he wouldn't mind, Pepper could have whatever she liked so long as Loki was gone forever.

As if reading his mind, Lucie took his hand and rested her head on his shoulder. "For the record, it was pretty cool."

"Thanks kid."

"So where's my room?" she teased.

Tony smiled and brushed it off with a laugh. In all honesty he didn't want to let her out of his sight for the rest of his life, he wanted to lock her away so that she could never be harmed again. Somewhere away from SHIELD and their influence.

"Rumlow," Lucie said, framing her expression so that it betrayed no emotion. She let of her father's hand and stood almost to attention. For a moment, Tony didn't recognise her.

"Agent James. Didn't expect to see you here," Rumlow replied with his trademark smirk.

"Likewise. Loki is in custody and the sceptre is secure." Lucie indicated towards the lounge where Natasha stood with a careful eye on the god in question.

"Copy."

Although clearly older than her by at least a decade, Tony wasn't sure whether to be proud or concerned at the amount of respect that she was automatically given. The more he watched her, the more questions were raised and he looked upon his daughter as if she were a stranger to him.

Steve hung back until SHIELD had left, watching until Rumlow and the rest of STRIKE left with the Tesseract and sceptre under armed guard and heading for a secure location. Despite everything that SHIELD had done for him, he still didn't trust them. Maybe that was the problem, they had done too much just because they could. Their only wrong move had been the young woman who sat on the kitchen counter, legs folded under her as she picked knives from her uniform and then flung them on the counter. She had thrown bobby pins onto the counter beside her and let her hair fall loose around her face although stained with ash in patches where it had been exposed and her face was looked a sickly shade of grey.

"So, how was your first day on the job?" she teased, giving him her full attention.

"I've had better days," he confessed, wiping the ash away from his face with a damp paper towel.

"You okay?" Lucie asked, taking a second paper towel and attempting to help in dislodging some of the dust and ash.

He looked older now she was up close, the ash clung to his eyebrows and danced along his eyelashes making everything look dingy and grey. As she helped, Steve's actions slowed, letting her take over with gentle hands.

"We should debrief before we head off." His attempt at avoiding her question was pointless and he knew it.

"Steve, Fury won't mind if we take a couple of hours. Everyone' heading down to that shawarma joint my dad mentioned. You coming?" she asked, throwing the grubby paper towels into the sink and pushing herself off the counter.

Steve looked towards the floor as if it would inspire some excuse.

"Come and get something to eat, it'll make the come down from the adrenaline more bearable. If you want you we can argue later about how I lied." Lucie smiled, battering any attempt at an excuse that Steve could offer.

"I don't want you argue."

She smiled, knowing that eventually he would be able to forgive her. He may not understand her motives yet but he was willing to listen and that was all she ever dared ask. Leaving her mangled sidearm on the counter, she headed for the elevator, ignoring the significant dent in the metal from where the Hulk had lost his temper at having to take the stairs.

The shawarma joint a couple of blocks away was one of Tony's better ideas. The owners lived in an apartment above and even though half of their restaurant was in ruins. Tony offered to pay for any repairs and improvements so long as they could eat, the woman behind the counter quickly agreed, recognising the man immediately and together Clint and Thor pushed together three tables and everyone else pulled up a chair. When food arrived they accepted with grateful but exhausted smiles and the tiny amount of conversation, mostly from Thor and Tony stopped, everyone concentrating on staying awake long enough to finish their meal.

**So there we have the end of the movie. From now I'm going back and editing the hell out of this so if there is anything you think should be changed or you found confusing please let me know and I'll fix it pronto. xoxo**


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